


The Bane Of My Existence

by writing_hd



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Apologies, Arthur Pendragon Needs a Hug (Merlin), Arthur is a himbo, Canon Divergence, Drunk Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Drunk Merlin (Merlin), Evil Gwen, F/M, Fluff, Gaius is So Done (Merlin), I decided to go for it anyway though because why not, I only finished Merlin the night before getting the idea for this fic, I'm trying, Implied Sexual Content, Jealous Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), M/M, Merlin Needs a Hug (Merlin), Merlin is a Little Shit (Merlin), Merlin's Magic Revealed (Merlin), Some Attempts at Humour, Tags will update or change as story progresses, this might be bad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-12 01:14:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 31,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28751997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writing_hd/pseuds/writing_hd
Summary: In a twisted turn of events that foretell Arthur Pendragon's death in a different way to the one you know, Merlin sees the future in The Crystal Cave. The crystals have spoken - soon, he will fall in love with Arthur, and Arthur in love with him, and this very line of events may just bring about Arthur's doom... For Mordred is no longer Arthur's bane; Merlin is
Relationships: Gwen/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 54
Kudos: 45





	1. Mordred’s Second Quest

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So I don't often write many fics on here but I finished Merlin the night before coming up with this fic and I honestly can't stop thinking about it and that ending (I'm still sobbing about it). This may make no sense and at this point I'm just making up things as I go along but hopefully you all enjoy this :)

Arthur Pendragon’s destiny has always been intertwined with that of Merlin’s. The Great Dragon, Kilgharrah, told him as much. It has been foretold that Merlin’s duty is to serve and protect Arthur for as long as he shall live. Lately, Merlin is wondering just how long that is. Kilgarrah warned him about Mordred the Druid from the very first moment Merlin saw the boy; but the boy is no longer a boy - the boy is a man, a man fated to strike Arthur down. 

It is hard to believe Mordred would kill Arthur. He is very quiet and has been nothing but loyal since Arthur so stupidly made him a knight. Merlin always thought HE’D be the one to kill Arthur for being a pompous arse.

“Merlin, where’s my sword?” Arthur snaps from behind his folding screen. Merlin does not reply and Arthur yells again, “MERLIN? Are you deaf? Where’s my sword?”

“I have it all ready here for you, sire,” Merlin says through gritted teeth. “All polished and sharpened. Just like you asked.” 

“It better be. My journey will be a dangerous one and I can’t afford to die just because my stupid servant forgot to polish and sharpen my sword.”

“Your journey?” Merlin asks suddenly. “You mean our journey?”

Arthur steps from behind his folding screen and holds up his arms for Merlin to slip his chainmail on. He slides into it and Merlin clips his red cloak bearing the Camelot sigil around his neck. Arthur smooths it down and looks in the mirror.

“Really, Merlin, I am honestly starting to think you’re deaf. My journey - not ours.”

“I...” Merlin narrows his eyes at The King. “I won’t be coming with you? Arthur, it’s unsafe to travel alone, you know that.”

Arthur scoffs, “And what are you going to do, Merlin? How will you protect me?”

“Like I always have,” Merlin retorts.

“And how is that?” Arthur raises an eyebrow. Merlin shuts his mouth and Arthur laughs, but not unkindly. “I appreciate your loyalty, Merlin, truly I do, but this is a journey you will not be able to join me on. It’s a knight’s journey and a knight’s journey alone.” He brandishes his sword and slides it into his scabbard. “Besides, I shall not be going alone - Mordred will accompany me.”

An icy cold wave of foreboding washes over Merlin. Is this another cruel twist of fate? That Merlin is forced to stay while Arthur heads off on some foolish adventure with the man destined to kill him?

“I insist, my lord,” Merlin presses. “I ought to come.”

“No, Merlin. This is Mordred’s second mission and it will be more dangerous than the last. I also want to get to know the boy a bit more without anyone around.” Arthur makes for the door and turns his head over his shoulder to speak again. “And you have a particularly annoying habit of messing things up.”

“That is _not_ true.”

Arthur flashes him a winning grin. “Now now, Merlin. Don’t sulk.”

“I’m not sulking.”

“How’s this - you can have the day off.”

Merlin crosses his arms over his chest. “Really?” 

“Of course not.” Arthur practically cackles.

“I just...” Merlin starts. 

“You just what?” Arthur says, stopping at the door. 

Merlin stares at his feet. “Be careful.” 

Arthur shakes his head, exasperated, but nods before shutting Merlin inside his room. 

From Arthur’s window, Merlin watches as he embraces Mordred on the court and they saddle the horses waiting for them. He suppresses the voice in his head that sounds suspiciously like Kilgharrah’s that he should strike down Mordred right here and right now. 

As if hearing his thoughts, Mordred looks up and sees Merlin watching him from the window. He smiles his soft, curled smile in Merlin’s direction just before he and Arthur ride away.


	2. The Future’s Uncertainty

Gaius is up, ready and brewing a potion by the time Merlin returns to the workshop. Merlin shuts the door and Gaius looks up at him with a stern expression.

”Merlin, what are you doing here? You’re supposed to be with Arthur.”

Merlin guffaws and leans back against the door, feeling particularly bitter. “Yeah, that’s right, I _am_ supposed to be with Arthur. You get it.”

The physician drops the pestle he was using to crush some herbs into the mortar. “You’re moping, Merlin.”

”Am I?” Merlin asks snarkily.

”What happened?”

”What happened is that Arthur doesn’t want me. He’d prefer to go on a quest with a murderer.”

Gaius sighs. “Mordred is not a murderer, Merlin. He has earned the King’s trust.”

Raising an eyebrow, Merlin replies sarcastically, “Who said anything about Mordred?”

Gaius scoffs and gathers up a few vials. “No one had to. You hate that boy.”

” _With good reason.”_ Merlin hits his knuckles off the tabletop in frustration. “If a Great Dragon and a Druid seer told you to fear the person destined to kill your best friend, would you?”

“I’d certainly be suspicious, but not as obsessed as you.”

“I am not obsessed.” Gaius shoots him a withering look and he repeats himself. “Gaius, I’m _not_.”

”Excellent news. That way you’ll be able to focus on the task at hand.”

Merlin smiles. “Of course.”

His positivity and smiling lasts only minutes before Gaius is glaring at him again. “You’re frowning.”

”Gaius, _he’s on a quest without me._ ”

”Yes, Merlin.” Gaius purses his lips. “So you’ve said - _obsessively._ ”

“When has that ever happened? When has Arthur ever stopped me from going with him on his endless journeys? In the ten years I’ve known him, he never has. I know Arthur better than I know myself; something isn’t right, Gaius, I’m telling you.”

”Merlin, he went without you to the lands of The Fisher King, this is not an individual event.”

Merlin smirks, knowing he’s won. “And had Gwaine and I not followed him then, he would have died.” Merlin runs his hands through his blackthorn hair and tugs at the red scarf hanging around his neck nervously. “Mordred has planned something. He has it in for Arthur. The Great Dragon knew it all those years ago and I was too stupid to listen, the Lochru knew it, you know it and I know it.”

”The future is never certain, Merlin. It could change at any moment. We’ve discussed this time and time again.” Gaius nods at a bundle containing different plants and vials. “Help me with that, will you?”

Merlin swoops the bundle up and promptly drops it, so lost in his thoughts. His eyes flash golden before it hits the floor and he snatches it out of the air. “Sorry.”

Gaius merely shakes his head. “See, Mordred is making you unlike yourself. You need to let this go.”

Merlin looks at Gaius. With every passing day, he seems to notice one more wrinkle on the old physician’s face. He tries to reassure himself that it isn’t with the stress he brings to Gaius’ life. Gaius is the father he never had, and although he met Balinor and inherited his remarkable gift, he was never there. Gaius has been there for him for the past ten years, and there have only been few times when the wise man has been wrong.

He sighs, feeling the matter slip away. “You’re right, Gaius.”   
  
Gaius nods, satisfied, and they head for the door. Gaius has several patients he needs to treat today due to the outbreak of some kind of illness in the towns. They are about to leave the workshop when Gaius turns around to face Merlin again, his eyes narrowing. “You agreed with me.”

”That’s right.”

”You don’t usually do that.”

Merlin lays a hand on Gaius’ arm. “I respect your wisdom more than any other’s. If you say to let the matter go, I’ll let the matter go.”

At this, Gaius narrows his eyes even further. “You won’t do anything stupid, will you, Merlin?” His voice is tinged with the weariness of an old man worked too hard.

Merlin forces himself to smile and lies. “I won’t.”

Gaius smacks him lovingly on the back and they head to the town together, Merlin’s mind a warzone more dangerous than any illness, his magic simmering in him like a ticking time bomb.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry again for this being so short but I swear things are going to get more detailed soon! Thanks for reading if you got his far!


	3. Love is the Bane

At first light, Merlin finds himself sneaking out. Gaius is snoring softly in his bed as Merlin’s door creaks open, causing the old physician to stir and mumble. Merlin shuts it carefully and takes slow, easy steps towards the door. The tingling of glass echoes around the room from the floor as he accidentally kicks a dropped vial of potion forward. Merlin halts, ready to accept defeat, but Gaius just turns over on his side, mumbling the name of his one and only love, Alice.

Merlin mutters some words under his breath and instantly the guards by the castle doors drop down. They will wake within half an hour with the memory of standing there the whole time in the deathly cold, none the wiser that a sorcerer is stealing a horse in his haste to ride towards a cave long revered to be a place of truth and times that will come to pass.

The stables are cold and dreary at this time and a chill passes through him, freezing his skin to the bone. He wonders whether Arthur is warm enough, wherever he is. Whether he has been able to light a fire, or whether that traitorous man he calls friend has done it for him. He pushes the thought away and leads a horse out of the stables. He saddles it and trots towards the gates, mumbling the same words of the Old Religion on the guards at the Camelot gates.

Soon enough, Merlin is riding through the trees and towards The Crystal Cave. If Mordred is planning to make his murderous move on this quest with Arthur, the cave will know. If Merlin has to go after them and sink Mordred into the ground if he must to protect his King, then he will do so if the cave shows the way.

The Valley of Fallen Kings is a dangerous place even in daylight, let alone during the night. Bandits crawl everywhere, waiting to take what little money or valuable information that can get them money that you have. Merlin can almost hear Arthur in his ear now: ‘Only a fool would ride into this Valley alone, Merlin. What are you playing at?’

The one thing that Arthur does believe Merlin to be above all is a fool. An idiotic fool. He’s said so enough. What he doesn’t know is that Merlin is anything but. He is Emerys, the greatest sorcerer to walk the earth, who holds the balance of this world in the palm of his hand. Whatever troubles tonight may bring - from vicious men or gleaming crystals that tell the future - Merlin will face them head on.

He is there within a couple of hours, greeted by the looming stone Kings that frame the entrance of the valley. Magic has always been strong in this place - he can sense it. The way his blood runs faster, the way he feels stronger, knowing the power that binds this sacred earth together - the trees to the ground, the flowers to the soil - is the same power that runs through him.

The Crystal Cave is not far from the entrance to the valley, lying up ahead. Merlin remembers the very first time he visited the cave. He saw terrible things, of Morgana murdering Uther and taking the Camelot throne. He had tried to stop all those things from happening but in his efforts he only set them into motion. Will he be faced with the same problem if, indeed, the crystals show him Arthur’s death by Mordred’s hand on this quest? Lochru, the Druid Seer, told Merlin Mordred would be the perpetrator - showed Merlin and Arthur in battle, but the surroundings were unclear.

Could Mordred be planning to kill Arthur even as Merlin journeys towards the cave?

The cave is just as dark and dingy as the stables, but Merlin can see the glow of the crystals within. He moves forward until he reaches them and is once again dazzled by their beauty and the strength that seeps through his veins in their presence. This is the birth place of magic. Here - _here_ \- is somewhere he can be himself without fear of retribution.

Taliesin is waiting for him, smiling. “Emerys.”

The last time Merlin saw the old Druid was on that day, years ago, when he was sure Arthur was going to die from the arrow wound he sustained from a bandit attack, way before he realised that Arthur had many more years to come, years in which he’d grow up to be the once and future king of Camelot, the strongest the kingdom had ever seen. Taliesin had helped Arthur to heal and become that. Now, hopefully Taliesin can help to show Merlin the way so Arthur may not die - so that he may continue to thrive as King, amongst the people that love him the most: Elyan. Percival. Leon. Gwaine. Gwen.

Merlin.

”Hello, Taliesin.”

”Back so soon?”

“But it’s been years.”

Taliesin looks grave. “Time is irrelevant to those of us that guard the sanctity of the Crystal Cave.” He stares at Merlin. “What is it that you seek, young warlock?”

“The truth,” Merlin says firmly.

”Gaze upon the crystals, and you shall see it.” Taliesin’s voice is strong and bold, echoing against the cave. “But beware.”

”Beware?” Merlin’s voice almost breaks. Arthur...

”Not all is as it seems.”

Merlin pushes down the weight of Taliesin’s words and looks at the first Crystal. On it, he and Arthur are laughing together, more so than they ever have in their life. Nothing amiss there - it means there is laughter in Arthur’s future. Laughter, and happiness, and a life left to live...

But the future is never certain. He has heard those words enough today and everyday for them to be ingrained in his mind forever. He has to keep looking, even if the results drive him to madness.

The next crystal shows Merlin half-carrying a very drunk Arthur to his room and using magic to open the door. Does that mean... Does that mean in time to come, Arthur will know? Will he know about Merlin’s magic? The Crystal shows them inside Arthur’s room. They are talking and Merlin blushes. That can’t be right... No sign of Mordred yet though...

He spoke too soon.

The next one shows Gwen and Mordred talking, with Mordred taking Gwen’s hand and placing his lips to it. Gwen... And Mordred? No. Gwen is with Arthur. Arthur means to marry her. There must be some kind of misunderstanding.

The next one is what makes Merlin wonder whether the entirety of the crystals in this cave were forged in lies.

Merlin and Arthur, kissing in Arthur’s bed.

Arthur above Merlin in the same spot, arms caging him to the mattress.

Next: smiling at one another.

Next: at a picnic.

Next: Arthur teaching Merlin how to hold a sword properly, his arm slithering around Merlin’s shoulders, his hand coming to rest against Merlin’s as he helps him raise the sword into the air...

Then more images of Arthur and Merlin kissing, rolling around, in love, smiling, laughing, _all wrong, all fake, all a lie._

The final vision: Merlin crouching over Arthur, his unmoving body in Merlin’s arms as Merlin screams and a tear passes through the sky. Someone beside him - Mordred - slaps his face, hard, and pulls Arthur out of his arms and away. In the distance, Morgana is cackling. And Gwaine, handsome as ever in his chainmail and his flowing dark hair shining in the sun, is not smiling when he approaches Merlin, screaming at Mordred as the tear in the sky grows bigger, and he places his sword against Merlin’s neck.

Merlin cannot turn away fast enough. “What was that?” he barks at Taliesin, tears streaming down his face. “Arthur and I... We’re not... And Gwen and Mordred... And Gwaine... Why does Mordred hit me?! THIS IS ALL WRONG!” Merlin screams, and the cave shakes slightly.

”Emerys,” Taliesin says calmly. “Listen well. You must not lose yourself.”

”Tell me what’s going on, Taliesin.” His voice sounds so small.

”You have discovered Arthur’s bane.”

”Arthur’s bane is Mordred,” Merlin snaps, wiping at his nose with his sleeve. Pathetic - he’s meant to be more powerful than this.

“No, young warlock. Not anymore. The future is always fluctuating, and even mere words can set new events into motion.”

”New words?”

”You, Emerys. You will fall in love with the once and future king of Camelot, Arthur Pendragon, and he will fall in love with you back. When that happens, Arthur’s fate is sealed. This - “ Taliesin gestures to the crystal that bears the dead Arthur, the crying Merlin, the cackling Morgana, and the aggressive Mordred and Gwaine - “will be the result if you allow such a thing to happen.”

”What do you mean?” Merlin cries.

”You are Arthur Pendragon’s bane.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Merlin is Arthur’s bane! Exciting! (Please don’t hate me 😂). And it seems if things go on the way they do and Merthur becomes a thing, Merlin could just about lose everyone... Hoping to update tomorrow night! Thanks for reading 🙂


	4. Wish You Were Here

It doesn't take long for Arthur to realise something is very wrong. It is too quiet. He stops his horse and holds up a hand to halt Mordred, who looks at him with concern. "Sire? What's the matter?"

"Quiet," Arthur says, listening intently. He looks around, hand on his sword. That's when the swarm comes.

Men appear from behind all trees, overwhelming Arthur and Mordred. Arthur unsheathes his sword and ducks an arrow, running the archer through. Mordred is faithfully fighting by his side. Arthur turns his back on Mordred to deal with two men with maces who are grinning at him wickedly. He disposes of them quickly and turns around to assist Mordred, but it seems the young knight is handling things rather smoothly - around Mordred, several men lie dead.

"Well done, Mordred!" Arthur laughs. "You are becoming quite the knight, my friend!"

Mordred smiles softly and bows his head modestly. "All under your guidance, Sire." He looks down at the dead men surrounding them. "Who do you think they were?"

"Who knows," Arthur shrugs. "I'm The King, people will want me dead."

Mordred's eyes glint at that. "Those people are fools."

Arthur slaps him on the back. "Your loyalty is refreshing, Sir Mordred. Now - let's continue riding North and make camp for the night. I'd say this has been a successful journey."

"Yeah," Mordred jokes, "Until you almost got yourself killed yesterday."

Arthur scoffs. "If you tell the other knights that, they'll never believe you." A smile plays around his lips. "Merlin might, though. It'd probably make his day."

"Merlin would be pleased to hear that you almost died, Sire?"

Arthur grins and shakes his head, pulling himself back onto his horse. "Merlin will no doubt ask you why you didn't _let_ me die." 

Mordred laughs rather uneasily. Arthur knows he is still growing accustomed to the way the knights joke about each other and Merlin. He will learn soon enough that everything is in jest. If Merlin were here now, he would make some kind of cutting remark about Arthur being a dollophead that has to be saved like a damsel in ditsress, just to get under his skin. Then Arthur would hit him around the head and tell him to shut up. The thought makes him smile and warms him on this cold winter night.

The air bites them with frost as they ride for some hours longer. Eventually, Arthur calls for them to stop. Mordred makes a fire while Arthur leans against a tree trunk, thinking. He should have allowed Merlin to come. Mordred is a quiet boy, still scared of saying the wrong thing. But with Merlin, he says the wrong thing every time he opens his mouth, and that's what Arthur needs - someone to treat him like a real person.

"You're thinking about him, aren't you?" Mordred says suddenly.

"What?"

"Merlin - you're thinking about Merlin."

Arthur stabs his sword into the ground, staring at the flames and refusing to make eye contact. "I don't know what you mean."

"It's alright, my lord," Mordred replies. "I find it rather strange that he isn't here either."

Arthur raises an eyebrow. "It'd be a lot louder if he was. Be thankful he isn't, you might actually be able to get some peace this way." He leans back against the tree and shuts his eyes. "Hear that?"

"I hear nothing, Sire."

"Exactly - sweet quiet. You wouldn't have that if Merlin was here."

"Did he want to come?" Mordred asks suddenly.

Arthur sighs and opens his eyes. "Yes. But I told him no." _I wish I didn't._

"I appreciate that," Mordred says. "I don't think he likes me very much."

"Merlin is strange, I wouldn't take it to heart," Arthur snorts.

"Strange?" Mordred presses.

Arthur waves a dismissive hand. "Don't tell me you haven't noticed. Of course he's strange. One minute he's useless, and the next..." Arthur bites his lip. "The next he has bravery and courage like I have never seen before. It's like he doesn't just have one colour to him. He fits into the grey area where the lines between valour and knowing when to accept defeat cross." Arthur looks at Mordred. "Very strange. Don't tell me you haven't noticed that."

Mordred shakes his head. "I can't say I have."

Arthur nods. Perhaps he is the only one paying attention to people around here. Not that many would pay attention to Merlin - he isn't particularly special. Just strange.

"You should get some sleep," he tells Mordred. "I'll take the watch."

"No, Sire, I really don't mind - "

"You will need all of your strength for the long journey back, Mordred. I have been much further than this before, I am used to it. We ride at first light." Arthur stares into the fire. "Sleep."

It seems Mordred does not have to be told twice. He is snoring quietly soon enough. Arthur continues to watch the flames. _I should have let you come_ , he thinks to himself, and pushes the thought away, turning his mind to Gwen instead and seeing her once again after such a tiring journey. She will smile at him and that's all it will take for the worries to wash away. 

That's how it's supposed to be. How it must always be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! So I suck at writing action so I'm sorry if the start of this chapter was super hard to get through, but I've given you Arthur missing Merlin so I hope you forgive me 😂. Hope you enjoyed this, and as ever, thank you so much for reading! I've found writing this fic and planning it has been a nice reprieve from writing my own story at the moment so thank you so much for all your support


	5. Just Friends

Taliesin's words ring in Merlin's head.

"You're wrong,” Merlin says firmly. “I am not Arthur's bane. I would never hurt him."

There was that one time Morgana pitted him against Arthur and Merlin took a particular interest in a crossbow, but he wasn't in his right mind. Even then, there was a part of him that remained that refused to hurt Arthur, that pushed against Morgana's magic, ensuring that every assassination attempt was a failure. And now, the crystals tell of Merlin bringing about Arthur's doom willingly? Through love? Something bigger must be at work. Something bigger that includes not only Morgana and Mordred, but Gwen too.

"Have faith, Emerys. The future may still yet change," Taliesin reassures him.

"I'm not... He's my best friend. He's in love with Gwen."

"For now. But love works in more powerful ways than you could expect. You must try and match its power with your own - this must not come to pass, Emerys."

Merlin clenches his fists. He wipes at his eyes and nods his goodbye. He leaves the cave and the moment he is outside he screams at the sky. His destiny is to protect Arthur, not end him. His destiny is to see him safe, not dead. It has been the two of them against the world for so long, as best friends, with Merlin serving Arthur and Arthur serving the kingdom of Camelot. And if anyone looked upon the pair of them and ever had suspicions, whenever Arthur wraps his arm around Merlin's shoulders and asks for his advice on every single occasion or Merlin makes Arthur laugh like no other, then they have kept it to themselves. 

Outside, the cold has strengthened. The Valley of Fallen Kings is still eerily empty. Merlin makes his way out of the mysterious place and immediately feels the drop of magic in his surroundings as soon as he steps back into the woods. The wind has picked up, so Merlin mutters," _forbearnan"_ and heat devours him. He trudges through the trees, trying not to think about what he has just seen. It can’t be, it can’t be... Not only would he never hurt Arthur, but Arthur is the _King._ The King of Camelot, who is in love with Gwen, who would never kiss him, let alone lie with him.

The wind stops. The leaves do not rustle. Silence fills the air. Merlin remembers when he was riding with Arthur one day a couple of years ago:

_”You’re such a prat,” Merlin had laughed. They’d been talking about something or other, no doubt Arthur complaining about Merlin’s complete lack of skills once again._

_Arthur rolled his eyes then suddenly his head snapped forward, and his sword was at his side within a split second. “Don’t move, don’t speak.”_

_”Arthur - “_

_”It’s too silent. Something is wrong.”_

And of course, he was right. They were ambushed. They fought like hell, and as always, Merlin ended up saving Arthur’s skin. He feels the same silence hanging in the air now, thick and dangerous, setting his instincts on high alert.

"I know you're there!" Merlin shouts into the night air. His voice echoes against trees and some birds fly away hastily.

Out of the shadows, two men step into sight, sneering. They are big and burly, and they each carry a sword. Dark stubble frames their dirty faces and their eyes, wild with violence, dance in the dark.

"All alone, boy?” one of them asks. He brandishes his sword threateningly.

The other nods at Merlin’s satchel. “Pretty bag you’ve got there. Mind if we take a look inside?”

Merlin laughs loudly. “You can certainly try.”

”Oh, don’t worry,” he says, as they both lift their weapons, “We mean to.”

The anger that has been building up inside of him since Taliesin’s words peaks now in the form of magic. Merlin smiles. “Suit yourselves.”

His eyes flash golden and he pushes his hands forward. The two men fly outwards like puppets on strings, hitting tree trunks and falling on the ground with a crash. Merlin relishes in the sound.

”Well who’d have thought that was all it would take to feel a bit better,” he says to no one in particular. He steals their weapons and heads on his way once more, the weight of a destiny too heavy resting on his shoulders and the sharpness of five words echoing against his skull:

’You are Arthur Pendragon’s bane.’

~~~

Just to make Merlin’s night a whole lot worse, Gaius is waiting up for him when he gets back. The physician is bleary-eyed and looks like he’d rather be doing anything other than waiting, but Merlin knows he will relish in this moment. He told Merlin not to go. He was right - Merlin should have listened. He knows that he will not fall in love with Arthur, they’re not like that, they’re... Their relationship is strictly professional and platonic. It’s just the idea of Gwen and Mordred... The idea that Merlin could ever hurt Arthur...

Gaius has fixed Merlin with a glare so intense that the sorcerer freezes on the spot. The not talking is more brutal than the admonishment he was sure he would receive. Finally, Gaius sighs. “Where have you been?”

Merlin runs the toe of his shoe over the floor distractedly. “If I tell you you’ll probably be angry.”

”I’m already angry,” Gaius says wearily.

”So why get myself in further trouble?” Merlin asks. “Well, if that’ll be all, I’ll be off to sleep now - “

_”Merlin.”_

Merlin stops in his tracks, closing his eyes in frustration. “I went to the Crystal Cave,” he says without turning.

Gaius does not speak for a few moments. Until, “You promised me you wouldn’t do anything stupid.”

“I didn’t _promise,_ per se. I just... Didn’t disagree?”

Gaius ‘hmphs’. “Well?”

”Well?” Merlin repeats dumbly.

”Merlin, please don’t tell me you went all that way only to find out _nothing._ ”

Merlin perches on a seat at the table where they sup and puts his head in his hands. “Honestly, Gaius, it was all just a big lie. What I saw... What Taliesin told me will come to pass...” He forces a smile. “I don’t think it ever will. I won’t let it. You were right, the future is not definite. I know that now.” Merlin stares at his hands. “Arthur is safe.” _He’ll never not be when it comes to me._

Gaius nods and holds his tongue, as if fighting back the urge to say I told you so. “And Mordred?” is all he asks.

”Yes,” Merlin snaps, “Him.”

”Anything about him?”

Merlin rests his head on the table. “I think even if Mordred was outright killed, he’d still find a way to become part of the big prophecy about Arthur’s death.”

”So is that a yes?”

”Perhaps,” Merlin says. “It’s too complicated to explain, Gaius.” _And I really don’t want to._ “I just know that if I’m right - and I know I am - about the events shown to me, Arthur will remain safe. I will not let the future unravel.”

Gaius looks uncertain. “Need I remind you that the last time you meddled in things because of the events you saw in that cave to stop them from happening, they came to pass anyway?”

Merlin does not need to be reminded. He remembers that day, when he tried to stop Morgana murdering Uther, almost killing her in the process. When he so stupidly let his morality get the best of him and he saved her life, which allowed her to attempt it anyway. Luckily, she did not succeed then, giving Arthur more time with Uther, as cruel as he was, before he did inevitably meet his sticky end years later, breaking Arthur down, leaving a spiritless boy sitting on the throne of Camelot where his father once sat.

Perhaps if Merlin had not saved Morgana that day she first attempted to assassinate Uther, there would have never been any danger of Arthur dying at all; if he had not, maybe these prophecies and visions of his doom would never have been formed. One too many times has Merlin let bad people slip through his fingers, despite being warned against them: first Mordred, saving him as a boy, then Morgana, taking pity in her because of the kind girl she once was.

Now it is Merlin that seems to be the one that will cause Arthur’s end. Merlin who will bring about his best friend’s death, if they fall in love. That will not happen. It would never happen. And even if there was a chance he could have welcomed such a thought before, he never will again now. 

“Merlin?” Gaius’ voice cuts into his thoughts. 

Merlin gets to his feet and walks towards his room, a sudden fatigue crawling over him. “I will not meddle, Gaius. In fact, I intend to do nothing.”

”Nothing?” Gaius sounds rather bewildered. 

“That’s right,” Merlin says, allowing his hands to form a _Ta-da!_ gesture. “ _Nothing_.”

“I have to say, Merlin, I’m impressed. I knew you’d eventually put all this business about the future behind you. Whatever you saw, my original point still stands: the future is forever changing. Your one job is to protect Arthur here and now in the present, not prevent a future that may be unclear or may not even come to pass. You understand now?”

”I understand,” Merlin promises. “Good night, Gaius.”

”Good night, Merlin.”

Merlin shuts his door and carefully sits down on the side of his bed. The night stretches on and tears run down his face.

 _I promise, Arthur,_ he says to himself silently, crying. _I won’t let this happen. I won’t let you die._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I’m so excited for the next chapter because Arthur will be returning and Merthur will be reunited! I’m really sorry I’ve been so mean keeping them apart 😂. I’ve really appreciated all the comments and kudos so far, thank you all so much, this fandom is so supportive. I’ll try and get the next chapter up by tomorrow, but if not it’ll be the day after at the latest. Thank you so much! 💕


	6. I’m Still Here, Aren’t I?

Merlin breathes a sigh of relief when Arthur trots through the Camelot gates on his horse, Mordred at his side. The two men jump down and greet their loved ones, with Mordred heading straight for the other knights, who ruffle his hair and offer him congratulations on another successful quest. Merlin stands by, watching, but his eyes are not on Mordred.

Gwen rushes down the stairs leading into the castle and jumps into Arthur’s arms. Arthur embraces her, his gloved hand coming to rest in her brunette hair.

”Guinevere,” Merlin hears him whisper against her. He tries not to look like he’s eavesdropping. Arthur kisses her and Merlin turns away, the image of Mordred kissing Gwen’s hand in the crystal forcing its way back into his mind.

”How was your journey?” Gwen asks Arthur finally, pulling away from him.

”Particularly ordinary,” Arthur says with a shrug. “Although we did run into some trouble a couple of days ago. We were ambushed.”

”Do you think it was Morgana?” Gwen asks, worried.

”Quite possibly,” Arthur replies. “But I suppose we shall never know what my sister is planning.”

Mordred looks over at that, no longer speaking to the knights. “We dealt with it, my lady,” he promises Gwen, eyes flashing.

”You are becoming quite the knight, Sir Mordred,” Gwen says, impressed.

”That’s what I said,” Arthur says, clapping Mordred on the shoulder.

”Yes,” Merlin finally pipes up, irritated Arthur hasn’t even made any move to speak to him yet. “Well done Sir Mordred,” he says flatly.

Mordred narrows his eyes at Merlin, who just arches an eyebrow in return, his arms crossed over his chest.

Arthur grins. “Merlin, I almost didn’t see you there.”

”Sure you didn’t,” Merlin mumbles.

”I trust you haven’t slacked off your work in the days I’ve been gone?”

”Of course not, Sire,” Merlin says. He looks at Arthur. His blonde hair shines in the sun and perspiration beads on his forehead from the long ride back. “All is done.”

“Wonderful, perhaps you are not completely useless.” Arthur leans into Gwen to whisper in her ear conspiratorially, but he keeps his voice loud enough so Merlin can hear. “I half expected him to be in the tavern,” Arthur hisses, and Gwen giggles.

”I am not a drunkard!” Merlin laughs. This is how it’s supposed to be, Merlin realises. Arthur is back, he is by Gwen’s side, and they are both teasing Merlin, like always. 

“You could have fooled me,” Arthur gibes. Squeezing Gwen’s hand, he pulls her towards the other knights, who cheer for him and his return, everyone laughing.

Merlin watches and feels a stab of sadness drive through him. It must be nice to be able to be that laidback with Arthur, to express pride and happiness that he has returned...

He does not even realise when Mordred suddenly moves to his side. “You know, Emerys,” the Druid says quietly, ““If something is bothering you, you only have to say so.”

Merlin grits his teeth and clenches his fists, eyes still on Arthur. “I have no idea what you mean.”

“I can see how much it pains you that he would just brush by you so casually upon returning, after everything you have done for him, little does he know it.” Mordred’s eyes gleam with a cold kind of anger. “It is okay to want respect and recognition.”

”I’ve told you before, Mordred. That’s not what I want.”

”Then what do you want?” Mordred asks.

Merlin sighs. “What I’ve always wanted and strived to ensure - Arthur’s safety.”

”He is safe now,” Mordred says, but his tone is dead. “We are of the same kind, Emerys. You need only ask for support from me and I will be there.”

Merlin downcasts his eyes and stiffly says, “Thank you, Mordred.” The words are a struggle to speak.

Mordred laughs bitterly. “I save Arthur’s skin several times, he makes me a knight, I see his safe return here, I offer you my counsel, yet you still do not trust me.” He sets his jaw. “Tell me - what is it I have done?”

_It is not what you have done. It is what you were going to do. What you may still do,_ Merlin thinks, looking between Mordred and Gwen and remembering the sharp way Mordred slapped him in the crystal.

”Nothing,” is all Merlin says. He turns on his heel and leaves Mordred standing there, trailing after Arthur, Gwen and the rest of the knights.

He catches up to Arthur and stands at his elbow. Gwen has retired to her bedroom to get ready for tonight’s feast to be held in honour of Arthur and Mordred’s return, while the rest of the knights have headed to their own chambers to prepare.

Arthur turns his head to Merlin and his taut, tensed stance seems to relax when he sees the sorcerer. “Ah, Merlin, I wondered where you got off to. Talking to Mordred, were you?” Merlin is surprised to hear a tinge of envy in the King’s voice.

”Jealous?” Merlin teases. He has missed poking fun at Arthur.

”Yes, Merlin, I am so very jealous that you have bestowed your affections upon someone else. My knight, no less. However will I cope?” Arthur finishes, deadpan.

Merlin goes to elbow him in the ribs and Arthur grabs his arm and twists it gently behind his back, ruffling his hair. “Hey!” Merlin yells.

”I could get you thrown in the dungeons for that, Merlin,” Arthur whispers in his ear. He does not release his hold.

Merlin laughs, still bent over with his arm behind his back, staring at the floor. “You won’t.”

”And why is that?” Arthur asks, finally giving Merlin his arm back.

”Because who will get you ready for the feast, you prat?”   
  
Arthur scowls as they take the stairs to his room. “I am quite capable of dressing myself.”

Merlin snorts. “Likely story.”

” _Merlin,”_ Arthur warns, pushing open his door, leaving it ajar for Merlin to follow him inside.

Merlin raises his hands in surrender and leans against the wall. “Please, don’t let me stop you from getting ready yourself.”

Arthur ignores him and reaches into his wardrobe for a white dress shirt, some trousers and a belt. Merlin bites his lip to stop himself from laughing as he watches the King attempt to tug his chainmail over his neck, getting stuck in the process. Arthur sighs in a way that might suggest he believes the whole universe to be against him, and closes his eyes in distress.

”Merlin,” he says quietly.

”Need help, Sire?” Merlin says sarcastically.

Arthur raises a finger to point at Merlin. “Not a word, idiot. Just... Just help me.”

Merlin smiles and helps Arthur shuffle his chainmail over his head, until the heavy material rests on the floor. He pulls Arthur’s shirt over his head until the King is topless, and his breath catches in his throat. Luckily, Arthur has shut his eyes again, arms up and ready for his new, clean dress shirt, so he cannot see the blush that has creeped onto Merlin’s cheeks. 

“Merlin?” Arthur says, arms still up, but opening his eyes now. “Merlin, what are you doing?”

It takes a moment for Merlin’s brain to begin working again. “Ah, yes, Sire.” He reaches for the dress shirt and promptly drops it. Arthur rolls his eyes. “Sorry,” Merlin mumbles. He quickly picks it up and tugs it over Arthur’s head.

”Finally,” Arthur says, heading behind his folding screen to change his trousers. That, at least, he can do. “It feels good to be back,” he shouts to Merlin from behind the screen. “As much as Mordred did well, I was beginning to get tired of constantly worrying whether or not I should have brought one of the other knights along with me.”

”Sounds like you should’ve,” Merlin says. “What with you saying about the trouble you ran into.”

”We dealt with it,” Arthur says. Merlin hears the thud of trousers dropping to the floor and bites his lip.

”I wish I could’ve been there with you,” Merlin says.

Arthur says his next words so quickly that they take Merlin quite by surprise. “You were.”

They both fall silent, realising what Arthur has just said. Arthur steps out from behind the folding screen, his trousers hanging low on his hips and his belt undone, and he scowls at Merlin, who arches an eyebrow at him.

”Don’t be a fool, Merlin,” is all he says.

”I didn’t do anything!” Merlin shouts.

”You were going to make some kind of stupid comment,” Arthur says scathingly. “I know you were. But for your information, I just meant you were with me because I could hear your annoying voice in my ear at every turn, saying ‘Don’t do that, Arthur, it might be dangerous!’ “ Arthur raises his voice into a high-pitched, completely ridiculous imitation of Merlin’s own.

“Really,” Merlin says, grinning. He does Arthur’s belt up and laughs. “Because it sounds to me more like you missed me.”

“I did - I missed having someone to make me food,” Arthur quips back. “Luckily Mordred is a good cook too.” 

“You think I’m a good cook?” Merlin laughs.

Arthur has the decency to flush. “No. Mordred is a good cook, I mean, not you. I doubt there’s anything out there that you _are_ good at, Merlin.”

_Saving your royal arse,_ Merlin almost says, but he holds his tongue.

”You shouldn’t have taken food from Mordred if you’re not used to his cooking. He could have poisoned it,” Merlin says, and he realises he is only half-joking.

“Don’t be stupid, Merlin,” Arthur says, adjusting his shirt cuffs and glancing in the mirror. “I’m still here, aren’t I?”

”Yeah,” Merlin replies. “Yeah, you are.”

”And that’s the way it’s going to stay for a long time, Merlin,” Arthur tells him. He heads for the door and shuts Merlin inside once again. Merlin knows he is expected to follow him down to the feast after he has tidied up.

”I hope so, Arthur,” he whispers. “Or I don’t know what I’ll do if it doesn’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! I really enjoyed writing this one! I hope you enjoyed reading it too. Thank you so much for reading and all the love you’ve shown this fic so far 💕. I still feel like a bit of a newbie so it means the world. This one has been slightly longer than the past couple of chapters so I hope you all found it okay. Let me know your thoughts in the comments if you want, or just leave kudos if you liked it! Thank you all so much 💕


	7. Never Been Loved

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Just a few things about this chapter. Merlin reveals he’s never been kissed, and I know that doesn’t coincide with canon as he kisses Freya, but a lot of things in this story will not coincide with canon or they might but perhaps not in the order you know of. Just a quick disclaimer! Thanks and I hope you enjoy 💕

The feast roars with life while everyone eats, drinks and chats. Servants float around everywhere, ensuring their masters and mistresses and, most importantly, their King and his girlfriend, have everything they need. It has taken some getting used to for people to see Gwen as a figure deserving of respect and as someone that will not be leaving the King's side anytime soon. She is a vision in her long, flowing, satin white dress, Arthur looking just as handsome as she is beautiful beside her in the clothes he insisted he could dress himself in. Everyone knows he will propose to Gwen in due course - it has been said that their love is one of the greatest that Albion will ever know. That much is clear just from watching them. Gwen clings to Arthur's arm, still rather uneasy to be so near the centre of attention during all this, even after so many months of people treating her less like a servant and more like a future Queen. Arthur is a steadfast presence for her throughout it all.

One thing Merlin has noticed about the King is that no matter how much of a prat he may be, he always ensures that the people around him are comfortable and does his best to put them at ease in his own way. With Gwen, that is whispering things in her ear throughout the entire feast to make her laugh. At one point, Arthur smirks and Gwen blushes a beetroot red while Merlin pours more wine into Arthur's glass and water into Gwen's (she is not a fond drinker). He can only imagine what Arthur might have said. In his distraction, he drops the jug of water.

"Merlin!" Arthur snaps as Merlin crouches down rapidly under the table to pick up the broken pieces. "What has gotten into you?" He glowers at Merlin, like he's ruined the entire night with his clumsiness.

"Sorry, Sire," Merlin mumbles, getting to his feet. "I'll get you another jug of water, Gwen."

"No, Merlin, really, that's quite alright." She places a reassuring hand on Merlin's arm and hisses in a whisper, "I think someone just likes to be dramatic," nodding her head towards Arthur, who narrows his eyes upon her words.

Merlin grins. "When does he not?"

Arthur wraps an arm around Gwen's waist and gives Merlin a hard stare. "Why don't you go off somewhere and make yourself useful?”

Merlin knows when he is not wanted. He rolls his eyes and leaves the happy couple alone. It is a welcome distraction when Sir Gwaine hollers him over. "Merlin, get over here!" His voice is heavy with alcohol, which Merlin expected it would be. Gwaine is the best drinker in all of Camelot. Probably even in all of Albion.

"Gwaine?" Merlin asks. His tone is irritable.

Gwaine raises an eyebrow, pushing his dark hair out of his eyes. He raises his cup in Merlin's direction. "What's up with your sorry face?"

"Nothing," Merlin says through gritted teeth. 

Across from him, Sir Percival snorts. "It looks like you've just swallowed a lemon, Merlin, with that sour look on your face."

"Princess been giving you a hard time?" Gwaine slurs, and they all roar with laughter.

Merlin smiles. Even when Arthur pushes him away, he is always made to feel welcome amongst the knights. "Something like that," he laughs.

"I'm glad my sister is there to humble him," Elyan says, lifting his cup to his lips.

"King Arthur is more than humble enough," Sir Leon jumps in.

Gwaine mutters something that sounds suspiciously like 'kiss ass' but covers it up with a cough. Leon scowls good naturedly.

"You should sit with us, Merlin," Percival says. "Have a drink."

"You know I can't do that, Percival," Merlin says. "I think me taking a seat amongst the brave, revered knights of the round table will be what finally does Arthur in."

"You talk about the king dying in such a casual way." The voice comes from someone Merlin had hoped he would forget was present. Mordred stares at him, eyes dead but testing.

"Sir Mordred, Merlin meant no harm," Leon says.

Mordred's eyes flash. "I'm sure he didn't."

Merlin looks at Mordred with as much venom as he can muster. "How are you enjoying the feast, Sir Mordred?" He asks stiffly. "It is, after all, to honour your return. Your _undying_ loyalty to Arthur."

Mordred does not take the bait, refusing to be rattled. "I am enjoying it well enough so far."

The knights can sense the tension that has overtaken their surroundings. Gwaine, forever the jester, trying to cut through it, says, "Mordred, now _you_ look like you've swallowed a lemon."

At this, Mordred shakes himself out of it and laughs loudly, turning his head away from Merlin, who's hands have begun to shake. Merlin nods his goodbyes and heads back to Arthur and Gwen, standing as far back as possible from them, lest he overhear anymore private whispers.

Suddenly, Arthur is raising his glass into the air, silencing every single voice in the hall. They all look at their King with expressions that Merlin recognises - expressions that promise to hang on Arthur's every word. "A toast," Arthur shouts, his voice firm and tinged slightly with a slur, "To Sir Mordred." Merlin glances back at Mordred, who has the decency to look shocked. "Whom I would not be alive without. It has always been my aim when picking knights to choose the most loyal, brave souls in the land. I believe I have found that in you, young Mordred."

Everyone raises their glasses and shouts, "To Mordred!" who flushes and nods at Arthur respectfully. Merlin tries to push down his rising envy. If only Arthur knew everything he'd done...

Mordred's voice comes back to him. ' _It is okay to want respect and recognition._ '

Merlin shakes the young Druid's words away and approaches the King's table again tentatively. Arthur is looking rather red in the face and his eyes are very wide. He has begun talking about how much he wanted to tell Uther before he died - things both good and bad. Gwen looks rather worried. "Merlin," she says quite weakly. "I think he may have had slightly too much to drink."

Arthur schools his features into a look of absolute perplexion. "Nonsense, Guinevere!" he shouts, laughing. "I am perfectly sober!"

Merlin holds up three fingers in front of the King’s face. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

Without even thinking, Arthur grabs Merlin's hand and inspects his fingers thoroughly. He says his next words slowly. "You... are holding up... Twenty fingers."

"That's impossible, Sire." It takes every nerve in Merlin's body to stop himself from laughing.

Arthur shoves a finger into Merlin's chest accusingly. "Don't you tell me what's impossible!"

Merlin rolls his eyes and exchanges an exasperated look with Gwen, who sighs. "Would it be too much trouble to ask you to return him to his room, Merlin? He'll regret it in the morning if he doesn't go back now."

"Nonsense, nonsense!" Arthur slurs again, 'nonsense' clearly the word of the night. He drapes his arm around Gwen's shoulders. Gwen pats his hand lovingly and with an expression that suggests that she loves him but is not altogether sure why she does.

Merlin remembers the crystal, which showed him carrying Arthur back to his room. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Gwen.”

Gwen frowns. “Oh?”

Arthur grins. “See, Guinevere, Merlin knows it’s not a good idea.”

”Arthur...” she sighs and looks at Merlin again pleadingly. “He’s going to make a fool out of himself if this continues, Merlin,” she hisses. She glances across the hall at the knights and says, “I suppose if you won’t I could just ask Sir Mordred for his assistance -“

In a flash, the rest of the crystal’s visions hit Merlin. Gwen and Mordred, together... Mordred slapping Merlin, hard... And even if the future has changed, he will never forget seeing the image of Mordred stabbing Arthur through the chest in the water of Lochru’s cave.

He weighs his own worries about his position in Arthur’s future against the threat of Mordred - the threat of Gwen. Mordred has always been a threat, but Gwen? He must not let Gwen be corrupted. She must remain exactly as she is now. Besides, he can continue doing his duties as long as he doesn’t fall in love with Arthur, which will never happen. 

Merlin helps Arthur to his feet, deciding. "Come on, Sire. Time to sleep.”

Gwen smiles at Merlin gratefully, relieved. “Thank you, Merlin.”

Arthur allows himself to be tugged out of the hall and as he goes, he shouts, “Good night to all! Enjoy the rest of the festivities!”

People everywhere raise their glasses and tankards and cheer for their King. Merlin tugs Arthur out of the room, ignoring a snide comment Gwaine makes as they pass about Merlin taking Arthur to bed.

As they stumble through the castle towards Arthur’s room, Arthur touches Merlin’s face several times. “You know, Merlin, I’ve never told you _just how much_ I appreciate you.”

Merlin sighs and practically drags Arthur along. “No, I don’t think you have, my lord,” he comments casually, trying to stop himself from smiling.

”Well _you_ ,” Arthur slurs, patting Merlin’s face, “Are just wonderful.”

They reach Arthur’s door and Merlin attempts to twist the handle, but to no avail. Arthur is almost passed out on his shoulder, half-standing, weighing his arms down. Merlin sighs and does the only thing he can do. With one glance at Arthur to ensure he is, indeed, completely out of it, Merlin mutters, “ _Aliese,”_ and the door to Arthur’s chambers bursts open. A part of him had hoped, when he saw himself using magic in this situation in the crystal, that it meant Arthur would have found out he is a sorcerer by now and he was using a spell open and freely due to that. But Merlin is never that lucky.

They stumble inside together, Merlin still half-carrying Arthur. He guides Arthur towards his bed and Arthur collapses onto his back. He has descended into a fit of drunken laughter. Merlin offers him a cup of water but he pushes it away.

”You must drink, Arthur.”

“I would _still_ be drinking, _Merlin,_ if you hadn’t kidnapped me and brought me back here.”

The side of Merlin’s mouth quirks. “I don’t think that’s exactly how it happened.”

Arthur chucks one of his arms over his eyes. “If you say so.”

He falls silent and for a moment Merlin thinks he has fallen asleep, or, even better, passed out. If he is unconscious perhaps he will sleep through the entirety of tomorrow, allowing him a wonderful day off.

“If that will be all, Sire...” Merlin tests. He turns to walk away but Arthur’s voice, low and commanding, stops him.

”No. Stay.”

Merlin whips his head around. Arthur is lying there, eyes wide, looking hopeful. Usually, Merlin aches for moments like this between him and Arthur, where Arthur admits for once in his royal life that he wants Merlin around. But after what he saw in the crystal...

”I don’t think that I should,” Merlin says, fighting against himself.

“Why not?” Arthur pushes himself up against the headboard. He raises an eyebrow. “Nervous to be alone with me?” he asks. He waits a moment for Merlin’s answer then laughs abruptly. “Don’t look so worried, Merlin. I just want some company seen as how I was forced from my own feast.”

Merlin sighs and looks at Arthur. He appears to be telling the truth, and although he will never admit it, if Arthur needs him here, then here is where he will stay.

He tentatively sits on the side of the bed and Arthur smiles, blonde hair matted to his forehead. “I hope at least Mordred will not be forced away from the feast,” Arthur says. “He deserves to enjoy himself. I’m sure Gwaine will help him there and ply him with alcohol.” Arthur looks at his hands, hesitating. A thoughtful look has passed over his face, and he lifts his head finally to look at Merlin. “You should have heard Mordred while we were away. I swear he has some innate fascination about you. Kept asking questions about whether I told you not to come, and about your personality. I kept expecting the next question every time would be whether or not you were single. Honestly, it’s like he’s in love with you or something.”

Something inside Merlin screams that perhaps Mordred is still Arthur’s bane, and that maybe the cave was wrong. Why else would he be so interested in asking Arthur about Merlin? Mordred knows he has magic and knows he is Emerys, which Merlin has always assumed would be enough for Morgana to know if Mordred has not already aligned with her and told her, and she is just merely biding her time. He wouldn’t try to find out more about Merlin unless it was important - he definitely wouldn’t ask the _King_ unless it was important.

Merlin does not say any of that to Arthur. Instead, he just rolls his eyes and says, “ _Please_. I don’t think so. Mordred in love with me? That’s laughable.” 

Darkly, Arthur asks, “Is the idea that someone could be in love with you so hard to believe?”

Arthur has never asked Merlin anything like that before. He is taken mildly by surprise. Merlin just shrugs. “Yeah.”

” _Why?”_ Genuine concern fills the King’s voice. Merlin had no idea that alcohol could make him so considerate. He decides to humour him - he probably won’t remember anything in the morning, anyway.

”I’ve... Never been in love,” Merlin admits, squeezing his eyes shut. “Not once. I can’t imagine anyone loving me because I’ve never felt such a thing for anyone myself.”

Between hiding his gift at Ealdor, hiding his gift at Camelot, training to be a physician, his royal duties, and his whole ‘protect Arthur on pain of death’ destiny, there has never been anytime for love. To be wanted... To find a sense of safety like no other in another person... Merlin does not know what that feels like.

Surprise lines Arthur’s features. He actually looks shocked, even though he has said several times since they first met that Merlin is gangly, clumsy and too thin. Any of those qualities rang true to Merlin as insults that sounded more like ‘no one will ever love you.’ But Arthur could never be that cruel. It’s just... The implications.

“So you’ve never been kissed, then?”

”No,” Merlin says softly, averting his eyes.

Arthur continues to look confused and doesn’t say anything for a moment. Until: “What about that boy from your village who saved my life? The sorcerer?

Will. Merlin almost forgot that Will took the fall for Merlin before he died and lied to Arthur, telling him he was a sorcerer, so Merlin could keep his secret in the shadows.

Discomfort washes over Merlin. He tugs at his neckerchief. “It’s getting late,” he says quietly.

”It’s a yes or no question. The sorcerer - were you both together?”

”Does it really matter, Arthur?”

”Stop pretending to be all interesting,” Arthur says, putting his foot in Merlin’s face, just like he did at Ealdor when Arthur met Will and asked Merlin why he left. Merlin had said it was because he wanted a find a place where he could fit in. Arthur had asked if he’d had any luck. Merlin had lied and said he wasn’t sure. If he could go back now, he’d speak differently.

 _I fit in when I’m with you, Arthur_ , he’d say. But it is not completely the truth. The only part that makes it not so is that Merlin cannot use his magic freely. Arthur would never understand, as good as a friend he is. 

Merlin fiddles with the hem of his shirt. “I don’t... Will was my friend and nothing more. I would never - “ 

“Fall in love with a sorcerer?” Arthur interrupts, and he almost sounds like he understands why that would be the reason.  


Merlin almost laughs at the irony. Instead he remains silent.  


Arthur pushes even further, “With a man?” 

Merlin doesn’t say anything to that either. 

The truth is he did have an unrequited crush on Will when he was younger. Yet he’s never been in love.  


Arthur sighs. “Leave me.” 

“Arthur-“ 

“Leave me.” Arthur leans back onto his pillows, looking disappointed.   


One of the rare times Arthur shows interest in Merlin’s life and he’s scared him away with his silence and short answers.

Merlin bows, then leaves, his heart heavy as he shuts the door behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was my favourite chapter to write so far so I hope everyone enjoyed it! I never anticipated how fun it would be to write drunk Arthur 😂. Thanks so much for reading 💕


	8. The Duel of Two Hearts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should probably point out that most chapters will be from the POV of Merlin as he’s my favourite and I find it easier to get into his head to write as, but some chapters will be in Arthur’s POV, as we’ve already seen with chapter 4 and will see some more at some points within the story. Just to let everyone know! I love Arthur so much but I find it easier to tell this story mostly from Merlin’s perspective. Perhaps as I write Arthur more I may change my mind, and maybe even a few more characters like Mordred and Gwen might get their perspectives shown! Thank you all and I hope you enjoy! 💕

”Rise and shine, turnip head - time to face the day,” Merlin sings gleefully, drawing Arthur’s curtains open to allow the glorious gaze of the sun to seep in through the window, illuminating Arthur’s blonde head of hair.

Into his pillow, The Once and Future King of Camelot groans, “Why. Are you being. So loud.” He promptly hurls the pillow across the room at Merlin, who dodges it easily.

Merlin laughs, takes a roll of bread from the silver platter of breakfast he brought with him, crouches down beside Arthur’s bed and shoves the roll into his mouth. “You have training with the knights today. You need to get up.” 

Arthur throws his blankets over his head and hides. Muffled, his mouth full of bread, he says, “My head feels like it’s going to explode.”

”Shouldn’t have had so much wine then, should you?”

Still under the blankets, Arthur scoffs. “Need I remind you once again that you are not the boss of me.”

”No,” Merlin says, tugging Arthur’s clothes for the day out of his wardrobe, “But Gwen is.”

Slowly, Arthur lifts the blankets from over his head. “She isn’t either,” he says, but he sounds less certain.

Merlin shrugs nonchalantly, turning his head to hide his grin. Thankfully, the awkwardness of last night hasn’t stopped them from falling back into their usual banter with one another. If anything, Arthur seems too focused on his colossal hangover than recalling the embarrassing truths Merlin revealed to him about his love life. Or the lack thereof.

“Arthur?” Merlin asks anyway, like an idiot, determined to set the matter straight. Arthur only groans in response. “Do you remember anything from last night?” Merlin spins to look at his face, to see if it betrays him.

Arthur snorts. “Why? Did anything happen that I ought to remember?” Suddenly, his features pull together to form a mask of horror. “Wait, no, please don’t tell me...”

Merlin blushes a red that matches his neckerchief perfectly, making him look like a rather ripe apple from the neck upwards. “No. _God no.”_ He scratches the back of his head awkwardly. “I, uh, just meant do you remember before and after the feast?”

Arthur shrugs and it turns into a stretch as he arches his back against his headboard, muscles in his arms rippling as the blanket falls down into his lap. Merlin turns away, blushing furiously. Arthur has never been particularly concerned when it comes to his modesty, but sometimes he overdoes it, even with Merlin.

”The last thing I remember is you dropping a jug,” Arthur says, eyebrows drawing together. “You’ll have to pay for that, by the way.”

“Great,” Merlin mumbles. He narrows his eyes. “Why are you not getting out of bed? Come on! Move it! Camelot isn’t going to rule itself, now is it?”

”You can’t talk to me like that, you know,” Arthur laughs. “I _am_ the King,” he adds, but he gets to his feet anyway, dropping the blanket completely now. Luckily, Arthur fell asleep in his clothes so Merlin does not have to quickly turn away as the blanket thuds to the floor, like he has grown so accustomed to doing. Arthur really has no modesty.

”Could’ve fooled me,” Merlin gibes. 

Arthur raises a hand to block out the sunlight streaming through his window. “Could you shut the curtains? The _sun..._ ”

Merlin shakes his head in a faux show of sympathy. “Alas, the sun - many say it burns. You might want to hide.”

Arthur grabs him by the neckerchief, pulling him in so they are almost face to face. “Merlin?”

”Sire?”

”Shut up.”

“Right.”

Arthur releases him. Merlin passes him his new clean clothing and waits while he ducks behind the folding screen to change.

“Was Guinevere angry with me last night?”

”No, she was just worried.” _We both were._

Shirt hanging open and trousers loose, Arthur steps out from behind the screen. Merlin buttons up his shirt and sorts out his belt, before helping him slide into his chainmail, waving away Arthur’s comments of doing it himself. He isn’t sure exactly why he does it, but he finds himself smoothing the chainmail down on Arthur’s chest, not focusing, his mind drifting elsewhere...

Arthur makes an ‘ahem’ noise. Merlin quickly pulls away and gives him the thumbs up. “All... All done,” he says in a shaky voice. He hands Arthur his sword and reaches for a potion Gaius gave him to bring up with Arthur’s breakfast. “This is a hangover potion that Gaius quickly whipped up for you.”

Arthur pushes the potion away. “I don’t need it. I’m perfectly fine.” Even as he claims so, Merlin watches as he squints against the sun and raises a hand to his head feverishly.

“No you’re not you prat,” Merlin says, holding up the potion right in Arthur’s face. ”Drink up, you wouldn’t want the knights to knock you on your arse just because you have a headache.”

Again, Arthur pushes it away and Merlin frowns. “A real King fights through his hardship. He endures it.”

”I think that’s what a real idiot would do,” Merlin mutters under his breath.

“What?”

”What?”

”You said something insubordinate,” Arthur says, pointing his sword at Merlin.

”Goodness,” Merlin tuts, “However will you cope.”

He ducks out of Arthur’s reach before the King can hit him.

~~~  
“You look like death itself,” Gwaine says, eliciting laughter from the rest of the men.

Arthur has rallied the knights, preparing them for the training of the morning. Merlin went to each of their rooms with the same hangover potion he offered to Arthur before going to Arthur’s room, knowing they’d be in the same sorry position if they didn’t take it. Each of them took the potion without complaint and are looking almost like they did not get absolutely drunk off their heads the night before.

All except Arthur.

Merlin suppresses a snigger from where he’s sitting and Arthur shoots him a death stare. “Thank you for that, Gwaine,” Arthur says, turning back, jaw set. He raises his sword and Gwaine nods, stepping up to Arthur and raising his own. “I’m still well enough to do this though.” He jumps into action, moving all his weight forward and locking his sword with Gwaine’s.

Merlin watches with hawk’s eyes, knowing there is no way Arthur will be able to win in this state. Gwaine is the best swordsman amongst the knights with the exception of Arthur himself, and with Arthur still recovering from the festivities, it is only a matter of time before Gwaine knocks him on his arse and Merlin gets to say I told you so.

Arthur ducks under Gwaine’s sword, circling around him. Gwaine chases him, falling for Arthur’s trick. Merlin has seen him do this countless times: exerting his opponent before dealing them with a mortal blow, or, in this case, a winning blow by knocking them to the ground.

 _Absolutely no way this prat is still going to win,_ Merlin thinks. He had hoped perhaps Arthur losing today would humble him enough to at least begrudgingly accept the hangover potion, but it seems even in his sorry state, Arthur is still the most exceptional swordsman in all of Camelot. All of Albion.

As Merlin watches Arthur hit Gwaine’s sword with his own, he has a sudden idea. He looks around quickly to make sure no one is watching then he turns his gaze on Arthur, looking as cocky as ever. He definitely needs to be taken down a few posts.

Merlin’s eyes flash golden and Arthur’s shoe laces tie together of their own accord, causing him to stumble to the ground with a yell, much to the amusement of the other knights. Gwaine grins charmingly and lazily holds the point of his sword against Arthur’s chest. 

“I win, Princess,” Gwaine smirks. He offers Arthur a hand and pulls him to his feet. He points at Arthur’s shoes. “Might want to get that sorted.”

Arthur’s head snaps down to the floor and his mouth drops open when he sees his laces. “But... How...”

Merlin coughs to cover up his laughter as Arthur unties his laces with a puzzled expression. “It’s because you’re hungover, my lord,” he calls out to Arthur. “I think you ought to take your potion.” 

If he doesn’t, he may pass out in front of the entirety of the Knights of The Round Table.  
  
Quite aggressively, Arthur growls, “ _No,_ Merlin. I’m _fine._ ” 

_Forever the Alpha male,_ Merlin thinks with a sigh. If Arthur refuses to allow Merlin to take care of him, he’ll just have to force him to through humiliating circumstances. It’ll be the most fun he’s had in years.

Next comes Percival, towering over Arthur. Arthur nods and they fight, this time Arthur struggling a bit more, squinting against the sun. After a few moments, golden light rims Merlin’s eyes once again, and Arthur’s sword clatters out of his hand.

Percival does not even take his moment of glory, instead looking concerned. “Are you quite alright this morning, Sire?”

A crease appears between Arthur’s eyebrows. “I don’t know what’s going on.”

This time, Merlin cannot contain his laughter. Even the knights are chuckling and despite his irritation, a small smile has creeped onto Arthur’s face as well.

Arthur spins towards Merlin. “Think this is funny, do you?” His eyes are gleaming with something indiscernible. 

The smile is wiped off Merlin’s face. “I uhhh...”

”Right, Merlin,” Arthur says. “On your feet. Pick up a sword.”

Merlin almost falls off his chair. “What?”

”Are you deaf? I said pick up a sword. Let’s see how you fair in a duel if you think me fighting is so funny.”

”Sire, with all due respect, I’m a manservant -

“Precisely, Merlin. Which means you must do as I say.” Arthur holds out a spare sword to him. “Come on.”

Merlin gets up, having no other choice. The walk towards Arthur is like the walk of shame. Even if Arthur doesn’t know about Merlin’s magic and that it has been the cause of his failures this morning, it still feels like some humiliating act of revenge against him.

”You don’t want to do this,” Merlin tells him.

”I could take you apart with one blow.”

Merlin remembers the old words and somehow, even though they are threatening, they put him at ease. “I could take you apart with less than that,” he says, and even though he knows that isn’t the case, it gives him a surge of confidence to say so.

Arthur almost smiles. He is remembering too.

Merlin takes the weapon and immediately flaps his sword arm around, trying to get some kind of lucky strike on Arthur. He knows this is the King’s way of trying to get some of his dignity back, and he is successful. Within mere moves, Merlin is on his back in the floor, Arthur’s sword pointed at his neck.

”I yield,” Merlin says through his laughter. Around him, the knights are laughing too. “I yield, I’m sorry I laughed at you.”

Arthur raises his word into the air in success and the knights cheer. Then he offers Merlin a hand up. Merlin takes it and all too suddenly, Arthur is pulling him to his feet with the strength of a lion, and Merlin almost goes tumbling into him. Their faces are a breath apart, their noses almost touching, Arthur still firmly clasping his arm while Merlin’s heart almost beats out of his chest.

Arthur clears his throat and lets go of Merlin, “Completely useless, as I expected you would be.”

”Says the clotpole that kept getting knocked to the ground moments before fighting me,” Merlin retorts.

Arthur scowls but there is a smile behind his eyes. “No matter - I told you I was in good enough condition to fight.” Arthur is beaming now, his golden hair slick with sweat and his sword gleaming in the sun. “Sometimes you make me wonder, Merlin.”

”Yeah?”

“You were still useless, but you showed bravery.” Arthur is looking at him - only him. The knights have turned their focus away from Arthur and Merlin, seemingly bored now. Arthur doesn’t seem to care.

”There are lots of things you don’t know about me, King Arthur,” Merlin says with a grin.

”It seems so,” Arthur replies. He calls for Elyan to duel him, his confidence bolstered now.

Merlin doesn’t even notice Mordred watching his entire exchange with Arthur, eyes narrowed. He is too busy rolling two words over and over in his head, his gaze stuck on Arthur and his fluid, smooth movements as he fights Elyan.

_Oh no._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Thank you so much for reading 💕. I really enjoyed writing this one too so I hope you enjoyed reading it! Leave me your thoughts in the comments or just your kudos if you enjoyed this! Thank you all 💕


	9. The Biggest Distraction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is pretty rushed but I decided to just go with it. Hope you all enjoy anyway!

Normally when Arthur enlists Merlin's help to organise and prepare romantic picnics for him and Gwen, Merlin is more than happy to offer his assistance, even if Arthur becomes even more of a clotpole around Gwen when Merlin is present, constantly trying to show off for her. He is always happy to help when it comes to the happiness of two of the most important people in his life. But that was before he witnessed Gwen talking with Mordred in one of the crystals of the Crystal Cave, giving him every reason to believe that perhaps she is not benevolent as she seems, or the time will come when she won't be. 

Then there is also the matter of Merlin's crush.

Obviously, he has always known that Arthur is an attractive man. You can't spend almost everyday around him for almost ten years without coming to such a conclusion. He is the handsome prince that Merlin's mother would often tell him stories about when he was younger, just a slightly less charming version of the figures Hunith constructed to amuse him. He will gladly admit to anyone that asks whether Arthur is as gorgeous as people say he is that yes, yes he is. None of that, however, means Merlin himself is attracted to him, or has ever _been_ attracted to him. He _has_ thought about it, whenever he's helped to dress Arthur over their long years together and his fingers have brushed against his skin; or whenever Arthur has surprised him with some actual common decency that one would not expect from the son of such a cruel man. Yet he has never allowed the seeds of such thoughts to grow into something concrete. Arthur is attractive, Merlin has an overactive imagination, and that's the only explanation - just a fantasy. Arthur is his best friend, and someone that is your best friend cannot be the person you want to hold close, make smile and share a big romantic story with. Probably everyone has such thoughts about their closest friends just to pass the time - it doesn't mean they mean anything.

Until, of course, they inevitably do.

Merlin isn't sure what it is about his brain exactly that does the opposite of what he tells it to do, b ut over the past few days, he has felt more drawn to Arthur than ever, and the visions he saw in the crystals of them kissing and closely entwined have come back to haunt his dreams, heavily overlayed with Taliesin's words, banging against his skull like an executioner's drum. _D_ _ays_ after being told that Merlin loving Arthur may _kill_ Arthur, and his brain decides to go, 'Hey Merlin, why don't we have you do the thing you're _definitely_ not supposed to do.' The only thing that makes this infliction bearable is that Merlin's crush on Arthur is only one piece of the puzzle; for Arthur to be truly doomed, he'd have to like Merlin back, which will never happen.

Besides, is possible doom even still in the cards?Taliesin talked of love, whereas this is just attraction and a minor crush, both of which are very different things. If Merlin is being honest, perhaps he has always had a small desire to be closer to Arthur, but he's never really dwelled on it this much before. Usually, he is used to dwelling on things not for himself but for the good of both Arthur and Camelot, like whether or not mere events are supposed to be changed by Merlin on account of that whole destiny thing, or whether he is supposed to let the events run their course without interference. His feelings for Arthur have never been something that cause the fate of the five kingdoms to hang in the balance. Now they are...

Merlin hits the back of his head on the tree trunk he is leaning against as he watches Arthur and Gwen talk and laugh. He has been perfectly trained by Arthur to stay quiet in these moments, only hanging around in case he is required to carry out any serving duties.

"Arthur!" Gwen giggles. "Stop it!"

Arthur has been imitating a different knight in order to amuse Gwen for the past five minutes. Merlin has to admit, his impression of Gwaine is pretty spot on, although his Percival needs some work. He stifles his own laughter at Arthur's antics, but the smile is quickly wiped from his face when Arthur catches Gwen's lips in a kiss, Gwen twisting her arms around the King's neck. After what he saw in the crystal showing Gwen and Mordred together, Merlin would be quite antsy about Gwen's hands going anywhere near Arthur's neck. But once again, that piece of the puzzle will never fall into place unless Arthur falls in love with Merlin and Merlin's feelings strengthen, kick-starting everything. Taliesin was sure it would happen and was adamant Merlin should do everything in his power to stop it; Merlin isn't so sure that there is anything of great importance that needs stopping - just because he is accepting that the platonic feelings he has preached all these years that he has for Arthur are non-existent and more longing for something that will never happen, doesn't mean Arthur will also have some huge realisation of the same nature about Merlin and end everything with Gwen.

No. Arthur is still safe. Meanwhile, Merlin is just...

Miserable. And more lonely than ever.

~~~

"Finally, Gwen sighs under her breath into Arthur's neck. "As much as I love him, Merlin is a very discomforting presence when I want to do this..." Gwen leans forward and kisses Arthur more deeply now than they have already been kissing, and Arthur melts into her.

After spending many moments fretting about the horses, Merlin went to check on them to put Gwen's mind at ease. Arthur knows Gwen is not that easily rattled, but is not complaining as she pushes him down onto the blanket, his arms encircling her waist.

"I love you, Arthur Pendragon," she whispers against him.

He means to say the words back, truly he does, but his breath catches in his throat. Instead, he kisses her harder, trying to take his mind off the golden ring resting in his trouser pocket.

He had every intention of proposing to Gwen today. He has been planning this picnic for weeks, bringing her to a place in the trees where if you look off a cliff edge you can barely see where the sky meets the sea, the breeze light around them. Guinevere once told him how much she loves the open air and the breeze; she told him that it makes her feel free. So Arthur had everything put into place, and was even planning on sending Merlin away himself to give them a moment of privacy so he could get down on one knee and present the ring to the woman he loves. 

Arthur has never been one to get cold feet. He is not easily scared. Yet this act... It is permanent. Once he does this, there is no going back. The wheel of love set out for his life will come full circle, starting from the moment he had his first kiss in secret with a measly squire boy who used to work at the castle, and ending through marriage with Guinevere. 

He didn't tell Merlin about his plans to propose. He tried to, but every time he opened his mouth to say something, the raven-haired boy would grin and his electric blue eyes would shine, and Arthur would find himself completely distracted. Merlin truly is the biggest distraction around - if he isn't being a complete half-wit, then he's saying something wise, or making Arthur laugh. If he isn't dressing like he slept in his clothes one day, then he's suddenly looking as handsome as Arthur the next day, although not quite as handsome.

Perhaps he ought to speak to Merlin first before rushing into anything. After all, Arthur is the King, and Guinevere is not a noble, and Arthur has Camelot's best interests at heart. It would be unfair to go forward with something so big without including Merlin. Merlin is an emotional man and will probably have tips about how the proposal could be made even better. When Arthur made the decision to propose to Guinevere, he did so as if making a decision about plunging into a battle or drawing up some kind of strategy. Love shouldn't be like that. With Merlin, no strategy is needed; Arthur never guards himself with Merlin, that's just how emotional and _feeling_ his servant is. It's infectious.

He should ask his advice. Merlin will be thrilled to finally be of some use for once.

"Arthur," Gwen whispers against his lips suddenly, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing at all," Arthur says softly. 

"Really?" Gwen asks, pulling away and raising an eyebrow. "Because do forgive me for saying so, I'm kissing the life out of you and it looks like your mind is entirely elsewhere."

"I - " Arthur begins to explain, but is interrupted by a loud thud and a branch breaking, the flash of a red neckerchief becoming visible in the distance. Arthur's eyes almost roll back into his head. "Did you enjoy your trip, Merlin?"

Merlin has fallen face-first on the ground. Slowly, he raises a single arm and sticks a thumb in the air. "All good here!" he shouts into the ground.

Gwen is laughing and gets to her feet, making her way towards Merlin. She offers him a hand. "Come on, Merlin," she laughs. "Looks like King Frowny Face over there isn't going to help you up, so I will."

Merlin takes her hand and grins, making Arthur's heart go funny. Jealousy? Merlin is, after all, holding Gwen's hand.

"Thank you, my hero," Merlin jokes. Gwen curtsies and they both laugh. Arthur just watches them both, his heart swelling and sinking in his chest all at once. Merlin catches sight of the pained look on his face and arches an eyebrow. "What's wrong with you, you prat?"

"Merlin! We have a lady present," Arthur scolds. The smile threatening to tug at his lips almost blows his cover of anger.

Merlin shrugs and squeezes Gwen's hand before dropping it. He sizes Arthur up in a way that makes him feel like he is on show for some kind of competition. Arthur's ears burn with embarrassment - Merlin is one of the only judges in Arthur's life that matters. Sometimes, he thinks he can see Merlin gazing at him with a dazed, confused expression when he thinks Arthur can't see. Every moment, it seems he is judging Arthur on something. Perhaps trying to decide whether he is worth serving anymore. Even when Merlin is working, Arthur can feel Merlin's eyes on him, as if trying to make some kind of decision. It is the distraction of all distractions.

Merlin may be useless at pretty much everything in life that exists, but one good thing he makes for is a distraction. And perfectly, he is applying such skills even now, breaking up Arthur's and Gwen's dalliance for the time being, thankfully giving Arthur a way out of the proposal.

Finally, Merlin glances at Arthur. "Are you ready to leave, Sire?"

In truth, Arthur is extremely tired. He looks at Gwen, still remaining ever the gentleman as he has been taught to do. "Guinevere?"

Gwen stifles a yawn. "I am feeling rather exhausted." She stands on tiptoes to peck Arthur on the cheek. "But today has been absolutely lovely, Arthur. Thank you."

Arthur doesn't miss Merlin raise his head to the sky, tongue raised to the bridge of his mouth in an expression that suggests he really doesn't want to witness Arthur and Gwen make kissy faces at one another. Arthur can almost hear the inevitable teasing that he will face later on.

Arthur kisses Gwen's forehead quickly and is the first to move towards the horses, needing both Merlin and Gwen out of his sight right now. The breath in his chest has constricted. Nerves - nerves from the almost propsoal and sealing his fate for the end of time. That has to be it.

He helps Gwen onto her horse, Merlin jumping up onto his own, then they are all racing through the trees back towards the castle, the golden ring in Arthur's pocket bouncing against him like a silent mockery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the pining begins 😂. I really enjoyed splitting this chapter between Merlin and Arthur, but let me know what you think in the comments! All kudos and comments are appreciated, you guys are all so sweet. Thank you so much for reading! 💕


	10. A King’s Curse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Sorry I’ve been MIA! I was just having a meh couple of days and didn’t really feel like writing, but I watched so many Merlin YouTube videos to make up for it 😂. Anyway, I’m back now with a new chapter and I hope everyone likes it. I’m trying really hard to improve my writing and to not just rely on dialogue - my introspection and description skills need work so I hope I’ve done okay. There is obviously still dialogue here, but I’ve tried to get more inside Merlin’s head who, in turn, is trying to get more inside Arthur’s head and imagine what he must be thinking and the hardships that come with being King. Hope you enjoy! 💕

Staring at the wall to avoid all of his life’s problems has worked just fine for Merlin up until now. Somehow, even doing that does not relieve him from the complete and utter destruction of his heart that comes with the inconvenience of liking Arthur. 

Why does he even like Arthur, anyway? He’s arrogant, egotistical and far too stubborn for his own good. He might be one of the most beautiful people in Camelot, who ladies and men far and wide want to get to know, but Merlin has no doubt that if they _did_ get to know the King, they’d be repelled by his irritating qualities, few as they are, even if they don’t compare to all of his appealing ones - like how, no matter what, he lets you know that he’s proud to have you fighting at his side; that he is more than his father ever could have dreamed to be while alive; he is courage itself, bravery on legs. Arthur exercises chivalry and honour even in moments when he has earned nothing more than to just scream and cry at the sky.

That, they have in common, if not for the fact that Merlin screams at the sky every other week, while Arthur must portray the perfect picture of kingly decorum and restraint throughout all moments of his life. The life of a king has always seemed like a very lonely one to Merlin. He saw it with Uther first, how he pushed away anyone close to him if they threatened him and everything he built: Arthur, when he almost found out the truth about his birth; Morgana, who begged him time and time again to stop acting so brashly; Gaius, who he almost had killed on account of the fraud witch-hunter... And countless people with magic who were peaceful and innocent, their only crime being the breaths they took each day, the footsteps they left in the mud while going about their business, just purely _existing._ Even then, though, Uther Pendragon’s loneliness seemed more like a bitter kind of loneliness.

Arthur is different. He doesn’t even realise he is living such an isolated life, even surrounded by as many allies as he is. He doesn’t know what it’s like to truly and completely lose himself in grief without fearing that the kingdom may break down with him if he does; he does not know what it is like to kiss someone without wondering what the court will think, a problem he has faced more than enough since he first started courting Gwen; he does not know the love of a father or a mother, despite Uther treating his son horribly and then calling it love. Arthur is a king, and that is a king’s curse: to be surrounded by people who would die for you, who are loyal to you with every fibre of their being, but to still be lonely even with all that.

Merlin doesn’t know which is worse. To be lonely like Uther because of people’s hatred for you, or to be lonely like Arthur, who is loved by all but not enough for someone to take his hand, look him in the eye and say, ‘It’s okay, you can tell me where it hurts.’

He has seen it over the last few days. Arthur has been more withdrawn than ever, clearly turning something or other over in his mind continuously without being able to reach some kind of conclusion. The worst part is that he hasn’t even confided in Merlin like he usually does. Gwen has noticed too and earlier she asked him what was going on.

”How would I know?” was all he said in return.

She touched his arm gently. “Because you always do, when it comes to him.”

If only that were true. Arthur is pushing everyone away, and Merlin doesn’t know why. Now, if he just pushed Merlin away, that would be entirely different, maybe even for the best: it’d ensure that they are apart and that no feelings of love could form. With Arthur, everything that is emotional revolves around the concept of out of sight, out of mind. It is why he sent Guinevere away after the Lancelot incident, believing that if he did not have to look upon her face, he might be able to move on. But no matter how far Arthur pushes him away - no matter how much he closes himself off to Merlin - Merlin knows he would never stop thinking about him. Out of sight out of mind be damned. He would never stop thinking of him, just as he can never stop thinking of him now and has never stopped thinking of him since the moment they met. He was just too stupid to understand the feeling for what it was in the first place.

Love.

Gaius places a dish of food in front of him rather firmly. "Merlin, you're moping again. What on earth is the matter?"

"Nothing." He tentatively raises the fork to his lips and chews, avoiding Gaius' gaze. "This is delicious," he comments airily.

Gaius continues to stare. "It is often said that two heads are better than one.

Quickly, Merlin gibes, "Not when one of them is yours." He grins.

"At least we know you still have your sense of humour," Gaius sighs. "But I do wish you would trust me."

Merlin takes one look at Gaius' crestfallen face and the words tumble out of his mouth before he can stop them. "I'm in love with Arthur."

Several moments pass where Merlin and Gaius simply stare at one another. Gaius' face gives nothing away - he looks as fondly exasperated as ever. Merlin looks down and takes another mouthful of food. Clearly, this is not a topic up for discussion.

He's so very wrong.

"It took you long enough," Gaius mutters, and Merlin promptly chokes on his food.

" _You knew_?" 

Gaius, unperturbed, simply replies, "Of course I knew, Merlin. I have eyes, do I not?" He raises an eyebrow. "Are you alright? You've gone a concerning shade of green."

Merlin lets his cutlery drop onto the table with a sharp clang. "It's _that obvious_?"

Sighing and understanding that there will be no further eating tonight, Gaius collects Merlin's plate, getting to his feet. "To me, yes."

"And to Arthur?" Merlin asks, his voice pitched. "What about to _Arthur_ , Gaius?" Merlin clings to the physician's arm for dear life.

Gaius shakes him off like he is just a leech from the tank he keeps. "I don't _know_ , Merlin," he says, rather exasperatedly. "I cannot read minds."

Merlin scrubs a hand over the back of his neck in distress. "He can't know. I still have my head, there's no way he knows."

"Well, how long have _you_ known about your feelings? Let's start there," Gaius says, using his ever so knowledgeable voice of wisdom that Merlin usually finds patronising in such events as this. Now, however, it is the only voice of reason in the world.

"A good deal shorter than you, it seems," he mutters.

"How long? Perhaps if it is not so long there is a possibility he doesn't know."

Merlin puts his head in his hands. "Technically? Over a week. Honestly?" He looks Gaius straight in the eye. "Probably since the moment I first laid eyes on him."

Gaius' expression is unchanging as he places a cup of water in front of Merlin. "You are forgetting one thing, Merlin."

"Uh... I don't think I am." _Well, there's the whole crystal cave doom thing, but I'm getting to that as soon as I can breathe again,_ he thinks faintly.

"What's your biggest secret?"

Merlin stares at him, confounded. "Have you not been listening?"

Gaius rolls his eyes in a way that would make anyone believe he is ten years younger and a lot easier to irritate than he actually is. "The _other_ secret, Merlin - the one that could get you killed."

"Oh. That one."

"Sometimes I despair of you, Merlin. I truly do."

"Sometimes, Gaius, I despair of me too."

Gaius gives him a strange look and continues to speak. "Arthur is very oblivious to a lot of things. It may be possible he has not recognised your feelings for him."

Merlin squeezes his eyes shut and clenches his fists on the table. "I haven't told you the worst part."

"Dear God," Gaius breathes.

Merlin tells it from the beginning. How he went to the crystal cave that night, meeting Taliesin, relaying every single vision he saw in those crystals. By the end of it, fear flickers in his beloved mentor's eyes. "I have no idea what to do, Gaius," he says softly.

Gaius pats Merlin's hand and shakes his head in a loving, pitying gesture. "You do know what I'm going to say?"

"I know," Merlin whispers. "I know."

Gaius frowns. "What do you think I'm going to say?"

"That my destiny is to protect Arthur. That no matter how much it may hurt, my feelings for Arthur cannot stand in the way of it." Merlin swallows thickly and plasters on a smile. "No happiness is only a small price to pay for the unity that I will eventually bring to this land."

Gaius slams his mug down on the table so hard that Merlin almost jumps through the roof. "Listen to me carefully." His eyes are stern and loving. "No man, whether he is your destiny or not, is worth the price of your happiness. Love alone cannot destroy a kingdom, Merlin. Love brings people together - what you saw in the cave and what Taliesin told you will have more to it.”

”It doesn’t matter anyway,” Merlin says, staring furiously at a spot on the table. “Arthur will never love me back anyway. Sometimes I wonder whether I’ve just imagined my entire feelings for him out of loneliness. Sometimes it’s... So easy to think that we could have something together when I’m at my lowest.” He blushes. “A fantasy, to take away the pain. This greatest sorcerer to ever walk the earth business really is a bummer.” Tears are forming in his eyes, trickling down his cheeks.

Perhaps it is not just Arthur who’s existence is based solely in loneliness after all. But then is there really anything someone immortal can do about loneliness? It is the cruelest fate of all fates, to stay on earth in the place of another, just because life refuses to loosen its hold on you.

Gaius offers him a handkerchief. “You’re never alone, Merlin. You have me. That’s not going to change.”  
  
Merlin dabs at his eyes and smiles. “I know.”

”I’m not your father but - “

Merlin clasps Gaius’ arm. “You’re as good as, Gaius. As good as.”

Arthur has no Gaius. Arthur has no one. No one but Merlin.

And even if Merlin cannot love him in the way he would truly like to, holding him close and letting Arthur know he is special, he can at least be there to protect him and stop him from falling through the cracks that loneliness can make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! 💕. I’d love it if you could leave comments and kudos if you enjoyed, it’d absolutely mean the world. Everyone has been so lovely already and it really makes me feel a lot better about this fic.
> 
> I’ll do my best to post another chapter tomorrow night at the latest because I’m unfortunately going to be very busy this weekend making sure I’ve got everything sorted for starting uni again on Monday (aka the time where I sit and stare at a laptop for hours on end because, hey, online study 🙃) 😂. Then of course I’ll be busy from Monday so the updates will probably come in once or twice a week instead of at the regular intervals they’ve been coming in at the moment. Thank you so much for all your support! 💕


	11. Just Within Reach

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! I thought it was time to at least attempt to give Arthur some more spotlight, I do love him so much, he is one half of a whole pining idiot, after all. While I have attempted some more introspection, this one is quite dialogue heavy as I really suck at getting inside Arthur's head, but I hope you enjoy it all the same! 💕.

"And so we must take this route in order to avoid any run-ins with bandits..." Leon's voice echoes around the room. Arthur is barely listening. In the corner of the room Merlin watches, his servant's shoulders tense and hunched. Arthur catches his eye and Merlin turns his head away. Arthur expected him to at least mouth something bordering into the vicinity of an insult, but he does not, adamantly ignoring Arthur completely.

"My lord?" Elyan says, making Arthur's head snap back to the matter at hand.

"Yes... Yes..." Arthur jabs a finger at the route on the map that Leon has drawn out. "Yes, I agree with Sir Leon, this is the best course to take." They have decided to go for a ride in two days hence but after the run-ins Arthur and Mordred had on their journey, they are taking extra precautions to be safe. There is no doubt that Morgana is closing in, allying herself alongside anyone she can find to build up her numbers in order to take Camelot. All safety measures must be taken - there is no telling which corners Arthur's sister is lurking around these days.

Percival, towering over them all, leans over the table and traces his finger over the map. "That doubles the riding time. What about this one?"

"We'd be riding into an enemy kingdom," Gwaine counters. A smile creeps over his face. "So, of course, I agree with you, Percy. Lord knows we could do with some fun."

"Fun or not, we must take the most convenient route," Mordred chimes in. Arthur sees Merlin narrow his eyes in the distance.

Arthur pulls at his face, a wave of exhaustion washing over him. "Merlin, come here."

Merlin looks up suddenly, clearly shocked out of whatever reverie he was in. Since the day they met, Arthur has known that he would give anything to understand even the smallest parts of Merlin's mind. No matter what, he always seems to be thinking about something. Arthur likes to think of himself as an insightful being - he is very good at understanding situations with his men and knights; if they are upset, he picks up on it easily and punches them in the arm to make them feel better. He did that with Merlin once, but he didn't take it well. So the next time Merlin was upset. Arthur did not punch him, but he tried to talk to him. That got him a bit further, yet Merlin did not completely share his dilemmas. It seems that no matter what Arthur does, there will forever be a part of Merlin that he just will not be able to reach, despite his consistent, valiant efforts.

"Yes, Sire?" Merlin's voice is unnecessarily tight with irritation. He moves to Arthur's side, unsmiling.

"What do you think?" Arthur asks him. "Which route?"

Merlin folds his arms and holds them to his chest, as if trying to protect himself. Arthur almost screams ' _No one here is going to hurt you, you dolt_ '. He bites his lip and gives Merlin a pleading look. As much as Merlin complains about the signs Arthur sometimes gives through hand gestures and expects him to understand (which he never ever does), Merlin is particularly gifted when it comes to the silent conversations Arthur has with him, almost bordering onto telepathy. 

He sighs and points, his arm brushing close to Arthur's as he leans over the round table. "This route," he says, pointing somewhere entirely different to where Leon and Percival did, "Will take the same amount of time to travel as the route Sir Percival suggested, and is just as safe as the route Sir Leon suggested." Merlin smiles weakly at Gwaine. "Pretty sure there's a tavern somewhere around too."

Gwaine slams his hand on the table and cheers, chuckling. "That settles it then, fellas." Gwaine shakes Merlin's arm up and down, grinning. "Who knew you were so smart, bog man."

Arthur looks at Merlin with interest. "How _do_ you know about this route, Merlin?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," Merlin mumbles.

Arthur holds himself back from hitting the table. Anger burns inside of him. "Well, gentlemen, it is decided," he says tersely. "You're all dismissed." He turns on his heel and storms out of the room, making a beeline for his chambers. He doesn't even stop to wait for Merlin, who he knows is trailing at his heels. It is only when Arthur is inside his room, Merlin slouching against the wall, that he turns to look at him.

"Arthur," Merlin says gently, "What's wrong?"

"You first," Arthur says venomously.

Merlin frowns. "I don't know what - "

"Oh _no_ , that's okay, _Merlin_ , you just keep your thoughts to yourself and shoot me _death_ glares and give me vague answers. I _really_ don't mind. Just you do _whatever_ it is that you think you need to do to get you through my clearly more than disgusting company." 

Merlin stands with his hands on his hips. "Come on, Arthur. You don't mean that."

"I don't - but do you?" Arthur snaps. "It's easy enough to see on your face, these days."

Merlin draws in a deep breath before yelling, "You know I love you, for goodness sake, you prat!" Arthur almost stops breathing at his words and Merlin's eyebrows shoot up. "Well, you know, not like that, but..." He looks at the floor. "You do know it. You know I love you."

"But not like that," Arthur supplies helpfully, surprised by how dumb his voice sounds.

Merlin flushes. "Obviously not, but thanks for that helpful addition."

Arthur nods. "Good." He approaches Merlin slowly. Merlin, the fool he is, gets so shocked that he stumbles backwards into the wall. Arthur reaches out an arm and holds him there. "So?"

"I... Uh... So?"

"Care to share what's bothering you?" Arthur asks quietly. He is astounded by how _easy_ this is, to have Merlin just within reach. "I can't have you messing up your duties because your brain is addled with some kind of stupid problem that could probably be solved within minutes."

Merlin sets his jaw and eyes Arthur's hand on his chest. Arthur notices he is breathing quickly. He immediately takes a step away, freeing up some space for Merlin. Perhaps he thought Arthur was going to hurt him? But surely he knows... Surely he knows that would never happen...

"I have nothing of great importance to share, Sire," Merlin says. His voice is like a cutting edge.

"It's not like you to keep secrets from me," Arthur says.

Merlin actually laughs at that, although he sounds far from amused. "You'd be very surprised."

Ignoring him, in a deadpan voice, Arthur retorts, "Just tell me who I need to execute."

Merlin's eyes widen. " _What_?"

Arthur chuckles, bending over, his hands on his knees. " _God,_ Merlin. This is what I mean. You're so jumpy. I was only kidding."

"I'm sorry," Merlin says suddenly.

Arthur quirks an eyebrow. "What for? Have you misplaced my sword again?"

"No, I just mean for... Being difficult." Merlin looks so lost and sorrowful that Arthur's heart can do nothing but soften.

Arthur has often tried to place himself in Merlin's shoes. Well, not precisely _in_ his shoes, as Merlin has incredibly big feet, which can be the only explanation for his constant clumsiness. But he has often tried to see things from the other boy's perspective on numerous occasions. While Arthur knows what it is like to feel the loss of love from an absent parent, he, at least, got a chance to look upon his mother's face, even if it was just a cruel trick constructed by Morgause to get Arthur to turn his sword against Uther. Arthur still saw her, despite that, and he was blessed with the constancy of his father's presence, even if he now understands that he loved and hated his father simultaneously. Merlin, on the other hand, never knew his father, and has had to leave his mother behind in Ealdor, purely to make a living here in Camelot so he can support himself and send earnings back to her. Arthur can't imagine what that is like: to have your life uprooted and changed completely, simply because you can't make something of yourself in your own home - simply because you didn't fit in there, as Merlin once told Arthur he did not. Throughout his life, Arthur has been privileged, pampered and protected from such things. Never has he had to wonder whether or not he fits in; never has he had to ponder whether the place he is in is the best one to stay in, for the good of those he loves most and for his own good, like Merlin has. Merlin left behind everything and everyone he knew to live in Camelot, help Gaius and make Arthur's life difficult. But Arthur would not ever change the day where he met Merlin, no matter how difficult he is. He chose Camelot - he could have gone anywhere else seeking a new life, yet destiny set him up to stroll into Camelot and right into Arthur's life. 

"You're not," Arthur whispers.

"What?"

"You're not being difficult."

Merlin looks surprised, to say the least. "That's a first."

"Isn't it just," Arthur replies bitterly. He looks Merlin in the face. "I want you to know..."

A flash of something that looks like hope crosses Merlin's face. "Yes?"

"I... I want you to know..." Arthur continues, "That you having problems does not make you difficult. That, even though I am the king, I like to think perhaps, if things were different, you'd trust me with not only your life, but also with the inner deepest depths of your heart too." Arthur clasps Merlin's arm. "It's times like these when I truly convince myself that you are actually my friend."

"I _am_ your friend," Merlin croaks, touching Arthur's hand. "And I trust you not only with my life, but with all that I am, Arthur. Which is why... I choose not to burden you."

"Sometimes I think you can be quite wise, Merlin, when you're not being..."

A grin splits across Merlin's face. "When I'm not being like you? Which is the complete opposite of wise?"

Arthur scoffs, "Funny. Real funny."

"It's all part of my charm."

There it is. The banter that Arthur has needed for days. _Finally_.

"If you have charm, Merlin, I'd hate to see the poor person you've used it on."

Merlin mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like 'look in the mirror, Your Majesty' and Arthur hits him gently round the back of the head. Merlin's eyes crinkle when he smiles as much as he is now. Arthur has never noticed that before.

"Will that be all, Sire?" Merlin asks.

Arthur waves his hand vaguely. "You can go," he says, coughing when his voice comes out hoarse.

Merlin bows his head and leaves Arthur alone. He sits on the side of his bed and stares into space. Absentmindedly, Arthur reaches for the golden ring in his pocket, which he has taken to keeping on his person at all times, lest Merlin come across it accidentally when cleaning. The thought of Merlin coming across Guinevere's engagement ring is a disconcerting one that Arthur has to suppress. He'll have to tell Merlin eventually that he plans to propose to Gwen. With Morgana likely growing stronger everyday, it is quite possible that, when she inevitably targets Arthur, he may not survive. Camelot needs an heir to the throne. Arthur must marry Guinevere before - if at all - Morgana reaches him finally.

He turns the ring over and over in his hand, looking from it to the door, wishing he did not have to make all the big decisions in this place. Wishing someone would ask him about his feelings, just as he asked Merlin about his.

For a single moment, everything he could ever want had been just within reach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I said in my last end note, I probably won't be able to update a lot this weekend or in the upcoming weeks, but I'll absolutely do my best to depending on my university workload and everything I have to do this weekend. I'm definitely going to aim for at least once a week, but I'm hoping maybe more than that. We'll see. As ever, thank you so much for reading! 💕


	12. The Serving Girl and The Druid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! So this is short and sweet but I really struggled with writing this chapter. I’m very tired after a long day at uni but I wanted to hopefully try and get something out tonight, so here you go. I apologise if it’s not the best, but I decided what the hell, may as well post it, I’ve been looking at this chapter for days on end, willing things to fall into place - if they don’t now then they never will 😂. Hope you enjoy, and I promise next chapter will be a longer one! 💕

Merlin doesn't mean to eavesdrop. He never _does_ mean to eavesdrop, it's just, more often than not, he finds himself in the wrong place at the wrong time. The decision for him to constantly overhear important things has probably been predetermined by some unknown force of magic, because his life is never easy and he can never catch a break, but to say he is more than shocked when he hears Gwen call for Mordred to come inside her chambers would be an understatement. He presses himself up against the wall, careful not to be seen, and breathes a sigh of relief when Gwen shuts the door after letting Mordred enter.

Merlin's eyes flash golden as he puts his ear up against the wall. Immediately, he hears their voices, almost as if they were standing right next to him. Merlin just prays someone doesn't come by and see him in this position - especially Arthur. There'd be no way to explain this to Arthur; the last time he caught Merlin in a position like this, Merlin argued his innocence through the excuse of checking for woodworms. Arthur, to say the least, had been less than impressed.

Perhaps Guinevere is indeed having an affair with Mordred, as the vision Merlin saw in the crystal suggested, and Arthur will find out completely on his own by walking in on them. The last time Gwen had an affair, it was with Lancelot, and Arthur banished her - he'd most certainly do it again if he found out, and Merlin knows without a doubt that Mordred would also be banished, or worse, sentenced to hang.

The idea of Mordred swinging, as much as he hates the boy, is hard for Merlin to process. He wants Mordred gone but at the same time he doesn't - it's complex, and his opinion on whether he wants Mordred gone or _truly_ gone changes everyday. Mordred is Merlin's kin, but it'd definitely serve him right to be punished if he is courting the king's girlfriend, and Merlin has half a mind to run to Arthur himself right now and reveal the entire scheme, just to completely get rid of Mordred once and for all, even if Taliesin thinks he is no longer a threat. Merlin knows better than to believe that; Mordred was there in one of those crystals in the cave, with Gwen, talking to her and kissing her hand. He is _always_ there, waiting in Merlin's shadow like a thief in the night, preaching friendship and kinship, all while he smirks at Merlin when he thinks his back is turned; all while he calls him Emerys whenever he so desires and expects Merlin to take that as anything other than a reminder that Mordred knows his true identity.

For all Merlin knows, this moment could be the moment between Gwen and Mordred that he saw in the crystal cave taking place, and he could stop it right now, if he just went to Arthur... Warned him of the danger...

But then he pictures Gwen, his first friend in Camelot. She would never ever betray Arthur's love again. When Arthur sent her away after Lancelot, it broke her. She'd never let anything like that happen again.

Unless there is something much more sinister than an affair at work here. In which case,  Merlin _has_ to save her from the darkness threatening to surround her in the form of Mordred. He cannot do that if he brings Arthur before completely understanding the situation. 

"Thank you for agreeing to see me, Mordred," he hears Gwen say. "I really do appreciate it."

Merlin can almost envision Mordred bowing before the soon-to-be queen. "It is my pleasure, my lady."

Merlin resists the urge to imitate the boy - how is it no one has been able to see just how deceitful he is? My _lord_ , my _lady_ , let me take your boots, your hand, let me make _everyone_ believe I'm innocent; after all, I came out of _nowhere_ and it turns out my destiny is no longer to kill Arthur - that's all _Merlin_! 

He fights against every nerve in his body that tells him to silence Mordred once and for all. He ignores the humming of his magic, determined to break free, and he listens.

"You wanted to see me?" Mordred asks Gwen.

"Yes, please, sit," Gwen says. Merlin hears Mordred oblige. "Mordred, I wanted to ask you something rather forward that you might deem inappropriate, but it is very important to me."

Merlin squeezes his eyes shut, ready for the worst, ready to hear kissing and the sound of his own heart breaking at Gwen's betrayal... Arthur will be beside himself with grief when he finds out..

"Yes, my lady?" Mordred presses.

"I wanted to ask you..."

_Don't_ , Merlin begs, _Don't do this, Gwen, don't hurt him, don't hurt Arthur. Don't break the heart of the man we love._

"Have you noticed Arthur acting strangely since you both returned from your trip?" Gwen asks.

_Wait, what?_

"My lady?" Mordred sounds confused. He is not the only one.

Merlin hears the awkwardness in Gwen's voice. "I wouldn't ask if I wasn't worried it was important, Mordred. He's been very withdrawn since you returned. I just wondered... Well..." she sighs. "Did anything happen while you were both away that I don't know about and should?"

There is silence for a moment, and Merlin almost blows his cover by laughing out loud. _This_ is the interaction between Mordred and Gwen that Talisein was so worried about? _This_ is a piece of the Merlin-Arthur-falling in love-doom puzzle? Gwen worried about Arthur? It's just too stupid, Merlin almost collapses to his knees with the pure relief of it all. Gaius was right - the future is never certain. The Crystal Cave lied - or, at least, it manipulated the truth. It’s becoming clearer than ever that Arthur is safe, that love will never ever be in the cards for him and Merlin; that Gwen is a loyal lover who checks in with her boyfriend’s knights to see if he is alright. If that doesn’t prove that Gwen and Arthur are destined to be together... That Taliesin was wrong... That Arthur will never love Merlin back... Then what does?

Unrequited love for Merlin equates to no death for Arthur. Even if he does indulge the thought for a mere moment that maybe the cave was wrong about what would happen if Arthur did love him back, just as it appears to be wrong now, he pushes it aside. Best not to tempt fate. Merlin would take the loneliness and heartbreak of not having Arthur in a romantic sense over the loneliness and heartbreak of not having Arthur at _all_ anytime, any day.

Finally, Mordred responds. “No, my lady. Except...” he hesitates, and Merlin almost tears his hair out.

”Except?” Gwen presses gently.

”I think he missed Merlin while we were away,” Mordred says.

Merlin almost stumbles back into a candle on the wall.

Arthur... Arthur, King Arthur, missed _him_?

 _He missed having a servant,_ Merlin tells himself. _He missed having someone to make fun of._

”That is nothing out of the ordinary,” Gwen replies. “Merlin and Arthur are extremely close, I know that.” He can hear the frown in her voice.

“Yes, my lady, I know. I just thought I’d let you know. That was the only thing I could see causing Arthur any distress while we were away.”

This time, the voice in Merlin’s head isn’t even strong enough to convince him that Arthur was distressed just because Merlin wasn’t there to do his serving duties. Arthur missed _him_ , Merlin, and him alone.

“Thank you, Mordred,” Gwen says. “You have been most helpful.”

Mordred kisses Gwen’s hand, stops a moment to bow then turns on his heel. Merlin presses himself close to the wall, holding his breath. It will do no good if Mordred sees that he has eavesdropped.

But when the young Druid boy is out of sight and Merlin hears the click of a lock on Gwen’s chambers, he can’t help but grin from ear to ear. Arthur missed him. He wanted him there by his side when he was away, and all this time Merlin thought he didn’t. 

Perhaps there is some hope for them after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always love it when Merlin uses his magic to do things he definitely should not be doing, like eavesdropping 😂. I enjoyed playing with the Gwen/Mordred dynamic - they don’t have a lot of interactions in the show from what I can remember, so I thought it’d be interesting if they did in this fic, seen as how they’re both so important in the story of Arthur and Merlin, one way or another. Let me know what you think in the comments, but if not that’s totally fine! Thank you all so much for reading, as always 💕


	13. Blue Irises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! Okay so I'm not gonna lie, this was my favourite chapter to write so far, even if AO3 made me lose part of it three times and I had to rewrite one of the scenes three times, but it's fine, we move on 😂. Please enjoy this much longer than usual chapter as an apology for the last short chapter 😂. We have Merthur fluff, Merlin and Mordred conflict, and drunk Merlin and Gwaine, so I hope you like it! 💕

On most occasions, whenever Merlin is in a chipper mood and actually enjoying life, some kind of tsunami hits him full force to knock him from the path of happiness. Today, that tsunami comes in the form of Mordred, pushing Merlin up against the wall and screaming in his face.

It started that morning. Merlin, as usual, went to see Arthur to give him a rundown of the day, help him get changed and serve his breakfast. He has been particularly cheery since overhearing Gwen and Mordred's conversation earlier in the week and Arthur has noticed. Merlin does not mind. In fact, most days now it takes everything in him not to tackle Arthur to the floor and whisper that he missed him too. He has not said so in so many words, but Merlin can tell Arthur is enjoying his positive attitude - it seems to be rubbing off on him; apart from the usual banter, Arthur has been nothing but kind to him as of late.

Yet, with happiness comes recklessness, and with recklessness comes discovery.

That morning, Merlin - completely dazed and drugged up on love and the fact that Arthur, King Arthur, missed _him_ \- decided to pick some flowers for Arthur to take to him alongside his breakfast. They were blue irises and reminded him of the King's eyes, although he wouldn't go as far as telling Arthur _that._ He headed towards Arthur's chambers with a skip in his step and a silver platter of food and flowers carefully balanced on his hand. If things were different, Merlin knows exactly what he would do: he'd use his magic to produce rose petals on the plate alongside the food and the flowers, and the flowers themselves would not be irises, but also roses, as everyone knows roses are the most romantic type of flower. If things were different, he'd hand the platter over to Arthur then kiss him slowly, and they'd spend the rest of the day laughing and chatting about nonsense, lazing around in his room. Things are not the way he pictures them in his fantasies, however, so Merlin has to make do.

He enters Arthur's chambers without knocking, finding he is already grinning. "Arthur, I have - "

Arthur is already awake. Awake, dressed, with an apple in his hand as he sits at his table. Mordred sits alongside him, looking pensive.

"Ah, Merlin," Arthur says. 

Merlin exercises every ounce of his self-control and speaks tightly. "What's going on?"

Arthur throws his apple in the air and catches it, taking another bite. Mordred watches the entire movement with quick eyes. "Mordred was just requesting some time off as he needs to meet some family outside of Camelot, so I granted his request."

Merlin places the platter of breakfast down and stares at Mordred with hard eyes. _Family?_ he says in his head, knowing the boy is listening.

 _Yes, Emerys. Family._ Mordred's gaze is steady. _The druids have been asking for me._

Unfortunately for Merlin, Arthur is not as oblivious as he sometimes appears to be. He looks between his knight and his manservant and says, "Is there something wrong here?"

Mordred moves his eyes away from Merlin. "Not at all, my lord. I was just leaving." He whirls out of the room, his knight's red cloak billowing behind him.

Merlin watches him go and when the door slams shut, he rounds on Arthur. "What was that?"

"I was about to ask you the same question," Arthur says, idly reaching towards the silver platter containing the breakfast and the flowers.

Merlin slaps his hand away from it. "You can't seriously believe that he has family outside of Camelot?"

Arthur expertly reaches around Merlin for the platter, but again, Merlin cuts him off. "Of course I believe him, Merlin. This is the first time Mordred has asked for time off in the months since I made him a knight. It must be important, and he's more than earned it."

"What could be so important that he has to leave the city?" Merlin asks through gritted teeth.

"I don't _know,_ Merlin, why don't you go and bloody ask him, if you're that interested in him," Arthur snaps. He reaches forward again for the platter but Merlin places a hand on his chest and pushes him gently back down into his chair, causing Arthur to grab his arm in alarm.

For a moment, they simply stare at one another, Merlin's hand on Arthur's chest and Arthur's hand on Merlin's. In one moment, Merlin sees everything it is that he will never be able to have.

How could he have been so _stupid_ to think that... To think that Arthur...

In his distraction, Arthur sneakily reaches for the breakfast platter with an 'Aha!'

Merlin yells, "No, don't! You can't eat that!"

Arthur's hand hovers over the lid. "And why is that?"

"I uh... I just remembered that I'm not supposed to be giving you too much food."

Arthur's irritated expression shifts into something tumultuous and thunderous. " _Oh really?"_

Nervously, Merlin scratches the back of his neck. "Want to keep you in shape, don't we?"

" _I'm fighting fit!"_

Merlin sighs, smiling slightly now. Arthur is, indeed, fighting fit, and it is plain enough to see. "Well we want to keep you that way!" Merlin grins.

"Merlin," Arthur says firmly. "I am hungry and the day has hardly started, yet I'm already tired."

"Hmm, yeah, I've heard I have that kind of effect on people - "

"So if you want to _keep your head,"_ Arthur continues firmly, "I suggest you stand back, shut up, and let me eat."

Merlin nods and squeezes his eyes shut as Arthur lifts the lid. How could he have been such a romantic fool?

He opens his mouth to apologise, eyes still shut. "Sire, I'm - "

"These are my favourites," Arthur whispers.

Merlin's eyes flicker open. Arthur is holding up the blue irises in awe, like he does not believe they are for him.

“You like them?" Merlin asks breathlessly.

Arthur still doesn't look up. "I... I do." He gazes at Merlin with wide eyes. "For me?"

Quickly, Merlin says, "From - "

"You, Merlin. I know they're from you." Slowly, Arthur places the flowers in the vase at his table. All but one. "Come here a second."

Gulping, Merlin moves closer to Arthur, closer than they were only seconds ago. He wipes his palms, clammy with nerves, on his trousers. "What is it?"

Arthur twirls the remaining blue iris between his slender fingers. "Do you remember the day we first met?"

"More than anything," Merlin replies, too quickly, and he curses himself. 

Arthur seems pleased, a smile tugging at his lips. "Do you remember what I asked you?"

" 'Do I know you?' " Merlin imitates, putting on his best snobbish, young Arthur voice. His impressions of Arthur have never been the best, but they are just accurate enough in tone to get under Arthur's skin. 

He thinks back to the day he first met Arthur often - it reminds him of just how far they have come since then; just how different they are. Those words play on repeat in his head the most: 'do I know you?'

 _Not yet,_ he would say, if he could go back now. _But you will._

Arthur laughs. "Very good. Who knew you had such a good memory. But I was talking about the other thing I asked you."

"The... other thing?" His voice is faint and feverish. 

"That's right."

Merlin's memory is good, but not that good. He replays their first conversation over and over in his head, until... Oh. He almost blushes so red that he has to excuse himself. Arthur's words from that day ring through his head like an echo of the past. _'Tell me, Merlin. Do you know how to walk on your knees?'_ Merlin bites his lip so hard that he almost leaves a mark. Arthur doesn't seem to care that he is more than likely about to spontaneously combust. His gaze remains steady on Merlin, staying like that even when Merlin slowly gets to his knees in front of Arthur, his throat dry and his face warm. Gently and methodically, Arthur leans forward and reaches for Merlin's shirt pocket, iris still in hand. Merlin watches him as he neatly places the flower in his pocket, smoothing it down as he does. After that, he just stares at Merlin for a few moments. He tries not to squirm with the intensity of the look.

Finally, Arthur speaks again. "The colour suits you, Merlin. Who would have guessed it," he says bitterly. The previous gentleness is gone now, replaced by something firm. Arthur almost sounds annoyed with himself.

Merlin drags himself to his feet and looks everywhere but at Arthur. The flower in his pocket is like a piece of gold - precious, from Arthur, but the meaning behind it weighing him down. "Thank you," is all he can manage to get out, his voice hoarse. It is a wonder he can even speak at all. 

"Matches your eyes," Arthur responds, skipping past Merlin's gratitude. He focuses his attention completely on the breakfast left on the plate. A subtle pink touches his angled cheekbones.

Without thinking, without planning, Merlin blurts, "That's why I picked them."

Arthur looks at him now, raising an eyebrow. "You picked flowers for me that matched _your_ eyes?"

Merlin sighs. He crosses his arms over his chest, hoping that will be enough to stop his heart from fighting its way out. "No, prat - I picked flowers for you that matched _your_ eyes."

There is a beat of silence where neither King nor sorcerer says anything. Merlin restrains himself from grabbing Arthur by the shoulders and shaking him until he understands what it is Merlin is trying to get across without actually stating. _I love you, Arthur. I love you. And I know you don't love me back, that it is essential you never do, but I want you to know it anyway. I love you._

Quietly, Arthur says, "So you're familiar with my eyes, then?"

 _Shit._ Merlin desperately grasps for some kind of explanation. "Someone has to be, you sorry sod. It's important that I am, so I can check that there's still some kind of intelligence behind them." He shakes his head sadly, smirking. "I'm afraid it's bad news."

Arthur laughs loudly, throwing his head back, exposing the arch of his neck. Merlin averts his eyes. He'd bottle Arthur's laugh if he could. It's been a while since he really laughed properly. 

"You puzzle me, Merlin," Arthur says, wiping away tears of mirth.

"I keep telling you, it's all part of my mysterious charm."

Arthur snorts, picking at the food on his plate. "If you're so charming, why is it you have no one special to give flowers to instead of me?" His tone is mocking, but there is something else behind it than Merlin does not recognise.

 _You're the special person in my life, Arthur._ He holds himself back from screaming the words. _You always have been, and you always will be._

"I think it's got something to do with the fact that my insurmountable intelligence scares people away," Merlin jokes.

Arthur grins, but it gradually falls away from his face after a few minutes. "Merlin, tell me something."

"Anything." Externally, he is making a fool of himself. Internally, he is juggling whether Arthur would notice if he used magic to shut himself up.

Arthur does not react. He only asks, "Why did you give me flowers, Merlin?"

Merlin anxiously fiddles with his neckerchief, picking at a loose end. "Everyone at least once in their life should receive flowers from someone they love," he replies through gritted teeth.

"Oh." Arthur seems suitably surprised by that answer. "And what makes you think I love you, Merlin?"

"Who wouldn't?" Merlin laughs. Deep down, he pushes down the alternative response. _I know you wouldn't._

Arthur sets down his knife and fork. His eyes glint with the boyish humour that Merlin has always associated with him, even since he became King and had to grow up in a way that he never should have. "It's beyond me why, Merlin, but I do believe you're actually right."

Merlin's heart soars in his chest. "What?" 

Arthur shakes his head in disbelief. "Lord knows why, but you're my best friend and I love you, despite your many many many - "

"Okay, I get it!"

" - many many errors and flaws," Arthur finishes. "But I suppose, in a way, that's what love is."

"What do you mean?" Merlin asks.

"What is love if not seeing someone's worst parts and deciding to accept them anyway?"

Merlin promptly reaches for one of Arthur's bedposts to keep himself upright while Arthur turns his attention back to his food. Merlin's knees shake like jelly, almost buckling under him.

He's worse than he thought.

~~~

It is not until hours later that Mordred is pushing Merlin against the wall, an aggressive look on his face. 

" _What have you done to him_?" Mordred screams.

Merlin pushes Mordred away roughly, allowing his eyes to glow golden momentarily, just to scare the younger boy a bit. It works - Mordred takes a simple step back, but his fist is still clenched around Merlin's neckerchief. 

"Let go of me," Merlin says softly, threateningly.

"Not until you explain what just happened out there," Mordred growls. He is usually so soft-spoken; the fury does not suit him.

After Merlin forced himself away from Arthur that morning and ran some errands for Gaius, he was needed for another training session with the knights soon after. Arthur was distracted throughout the entire session, his face slack like he was in some kind of daze. Even Merlin was worried about him. Arthur has only ever looked like that when he has been enchanted to be in love. Merlin was beside himself with annoyance - he leaves Arthur alone _for all of half an hour_ to help Gaius, and in that time someone has managed to enchant him. As if Merlin doesn't already have enough to do, and he now has to inform Gaius to make an antidote.

Arthur lost every single duel with the knights, he was that distracted. Even Sir Leon, who is far too chivalrous and traditional to insult any of Arthur's actions - always even complimenting the king on his worst fighting days - asked him what was going on to make him so sloppy today. Merlin had raised his eyebrows at that in surprise.

Arthur, meanwhile, had just brushed past his comments. He looked at Merlin with a soft smile and rolled his eyes as if to say, 'Can you believe this guy' and continued to fight terribly, getting knocked to the ground every single time, and simply ignoring the looks that Gwaine, Percival, Leon, Elyan and Mordred shot one another.

The entire time, Mordred glared at Merlin from across the grass, cold accusation in his eyes. So it is really no surprise that Merlin is here now, trying to stop Mordred from killing him. At least, the boy certainly looks like he wants to.

“I don’t know what happened,” Merlin says slowly, yanking himself out of Mordred’s grip. “He’s probably just tired.”

”I know you’re lying,” Mordred says. “He’s clearly enchanted, and you’re the only one who could have done it, you were there with him this morning.”

”So were you,” Merlin says flatly. “Anyway, aren’t you supposed to be long gone by now?” 

“I leave tomorrow,” Mordred snaps, adjusting his knight’s cape. “But now I don’t know whether I should.”

”I thought the _druids_ needed you,” Merlin says sarcastically.

At that, Mordred narrows his eyes. “They do. But I swore an oath to protect the King - “

”To protect the King from who? _Me_?” Merlin laughs unkindly. “Get a grip, Mordred. You along with the rest of the druids know who I am, and you know what my destiny is.”

”Destinies can change,” Mordred spits.

Merlin thinks of the Crystal Cave and Taliesin’s words: ‘ _Mordred is no longer Arthur Pendragon’s bane. You are_ ’. He pushes the memory out of his mind and stares at Mordred with a resolute defiance.

”If you think I’d ever deliberately hurt Arthur, your job as a knight of Camelot is already in jeopardy,” Merlin says, deadly calm. “Every single person in this castle, including the knights, know what he is to me - what he means to me. If you can’t recognise that by now too, then you’re more lost than I thought.”

That does it. Mordred roughly grabs Merlin by the collar of his shirt and drags him off the wall and into the corridor, raising a fist. Merlin’s magic pulls itself to the surface instantaneously, ready to face danger.

It is not much of a fight; not really. Just some shoving and some shouting, and soon enough someone is coming up behind both Merlin and Mordred and pulling them off each other.

Strong arms grip Merlin around the middle. “Woah, bog man, that’s enough. What’s going on?” Gwaine says, his voice cheery as ever but with a note of danger.

Behind Mordred is Percival, holding him back. Merlin and Mordred glare at each other with hatred that could match a thousand sorcerers’ hatred against Uther Pendragon. Once, it never used to be like this. Once, Mordred was just a scared little boy in need of assistance, which Merlin have to him without a second’s hesitation. 

He often wonders, if he could go back now, knowing what he knows about Mordred and hating him so, whether he’d still save him.

”Nothing,” Merlin replies. He wriggles out of Gwaine’s grip but does not make to move towards Mordred again.

Percival allows Mordred to step away too once he calms, and soon enough the young Druid is storming off in the opposite direction.

But as he walks away, he sends the same words to Merlin that he said so long ago during the raid on the Druid camp when they were searching for Morgana:

_I will not forget this, Emerys._

_~~~_  
  
Gwaine takes one long look at Merlin after Mordred sweeps away and decides that enough is enough.

”That’s it,” he says. “You need a drink.” He turns to Percival. “I’m taking Merlin out tonight, you and the other lads go on ahead without me.”

Percy frowns. “He can come with us - “

”No,” Gwaine says, and he grabs the back of Merlin’s neck in a way that manages to be both loving and threatening. “We need to have a talk.”

Merlin sighs. It’s going to be a long night, and if he’s drinking with Gwaine, he may not see the light of day come morning.

~~~

The tavern is rowdy and jam-packed by the time Merlin and Gwaine find a dingy corner to sit in and order a few tankards of ale. Arthur would have his head if he saw Merlin here now, but luckily Arthur has a meeting tonight that Merlin does not need to be present for. He never has to know he was here, unless Gaius slips up.

Gwaine raises his cup in Merlin’s direction. “Cheers.”

Merlin raises his own and halfheartedly says, “Cheers.” He hardly drinks it. He takes a single sip then places the cup back down.

Gwaine, on the other hand, takes a heavy gulp and rolls his eyes at Merlin. “Come on, man. Drink away your sorrows.”

”Who says I have any sorrows?” Merlin challenges, but he lifts his cup in defeat anyway. The ale is bitter but he knows after a few more sips he will begin to feel warm.

Gwaine chuckles. “Well, given that you were about this close to beating up Mordred, I’d say you’re loaded with sorrow and pent up anger.” He takes another swig of ale. “Unless it’s just all the sexual tension finally getting to you.”

Merlin’s eyes widen and he almost drops his cup. “ _What?_ Between me and Mordred? Are you _insane?”_

 _“_ Quite possibly,” Gwaine agrees. “But I wasn’t talking about you and Mordred.”

“What are you - “

”I was talking about you and Arthur.”

Merlin slams his cup down on the table so hard that some people look over at him angrily. “Gwaine - you - “

Gwaine is laughing. “Relax,” he says, in the cheeky accent that people can never stay mad at him with. He glances at Merlin, amused. “I see you’re making no move to deny it.”

Merlin’s fists ball on the table. “You _knew?”_

”Oh lord,” Gwaine mutters. “I’m gonna give it to you straight, Merlin -“

“Yes, because putting things like that really makes the situation a lot lighter,” Merlin mumbles.

Gwaine grins. “Ah. Sorry. Bad choice of words.” He takes another drink from his cup. “Of course I knew. You’re my main man, I’m always here for you. Of course I noticed.” He hesitates, then adds, “If I’m being honest, all of the knights know.”

Merlin feels himself pale. A wave of nausea overtakes him. "Does... Does Arthur..." He can barely get the words to leave his mouth.

Gwaine, seeing his look of discomfort, immediately shakes his head. "Arthur wouldn't know where his own backside was if someone didn't directly tell him. Princess is too oblivious for most things, you should know that, Merlin." He raises his cup again in lieu of the good news. "Your secret is safe."

Merlin expected he would first hear those words from Gwaine's mouth when he finally revealed his magic - not about love. The irony is that the magic secret makes the love secret all the more unbearable. His life is just full of happy little coincidences like that.

Merlin allows his head to collapse onto his arms on the table. "I can't believe this," he groans.

Gwaine slaps him on the back. "If it helps, the knights think it's completely adorable."

"Funnily enough, that does not help at all."

Gwaine shrugs. "I took my chances." He jostles Merlin's shoulder. "Come on, it's not that bad. Arthur is an attractive bloke, someone from our group was bound to fall in love with him sooner or later."

"Not - not that bad?" Merlin splutters, spilling some of the contents of his cup. "Are you _joking_? Gwaine, I have to be around Arthur nearly _twenty four hours_ a day because, like you said, he probably wouldn't be able to find his own backside without guidance, never mind _clothes_ and _food_ and his _sword_ and - "

"It just means you get to spend more time with him though, doesn't it?" Gwaine points out.

Again, Merlin groans. This really is shaping up to be the day of all days. Arthur is kind to him - hell, Merlin is sure he was flirting with him, never mind showing him kindness - then all of a sudden he's acting like he's been enchanted (Merlin checked before heading here, he is absolutely _not_ enchanted), and Mordred is blaming him for it. And now, he finds out his secret was not so much of a secret to the knights, just like it was never a secret to Gaius. Merlin tried to be so subtle that even _he_ didn't realise what his feelings were - or, at least, he ignored them until they became too much to bear. Yet everyone else sees the inner deepest depths of his heart plainly on his face? Thank God Arthur is not as perceptive as the rest of the knights.

"Gwaine?" Merlin asks through gritted teeth. "When you say the rest of the knights... Does Mordred know? What about Elyan? He must hate me, what with Gwen and Arthur..."

Gwaine knocks back the rest of his drink and shouts for another round. He nudges Merlin's. "Drink up - I want you to have finished that by the time the next round comes. I think it'd be unwise for you to be sober for the rest of this conversation."

Merlin knocks back the drink fast, laughing as Gwaine cheers him on. The alcohol rests fuzzy on his brain, but surprisingly, he finds himself less worried about Arthur and Mordred. The weight of his entire destiny doesn't even seem like that big of a problem, in all honesty. When their next round of drinks is set down on the table, Gwaine winks at the bar lady and Merlin smiles gratefully. They clink their cups together.

Finally, Gwaine begins to answer Merlin's questions. "Does Mordred know? Sure he does. He's a quiet boy, even when we've tried our best to make him feel like he fits in, but that doesn't mean he doesn't listen to or notice things. That's the thing about the quiet ones," Gwaine slurs, with a pointed look at Merlin, "They're always the most dangerous." He grins and shoves Merlin playfully.

Merlin realises that's probably why Mordred was so hostile. It is clear his loyalty is to not only Arthur - although whether he _is_ loyal to Arthur is questionable - but also Gwen. The fact that he would even see Merlin as a competent threat to Arthur and Gwen's relationship is laughable.

"And Elyan?" Merlin asks. His voice is light and carefree and his cup is empty. _How'd that happen?_ he thinks gleefully.

"Hmmm, Elyan is where things get a little trickier," Gwaine says, his words sliding together. He points at Merlin, almost poking him in the nose, like he is about to impart some deeply valuable widsom. "Elyan is very protective over his sister. The thing is, that may be the case but ... He doesn't see you as a threat to Gwen and Arthur? He thinks that it's just a little crush that you have on Arthur. Now, I know better than to think that, you're my main man, and I know that you're head over heels for our dear princess. But as far as we all know, this affliction is purely a one-sided one, yes?"

Merlin draws circles on the side of his cup, morose, trying not to remember the wide smile on Arthur's face when Merlin gave him the blue irises, and trying not to remember the earnest look in his eyes when he gave Merlin one of the flowers to keep and talked about love freely and openly to Merlin, like they were both so knowledgeable about the subject. He picks at the blue iris still in his pocket and curses the person who invented love.

"Yeah. One-sided," Merlin replies quietly. "Obviously." He sighs. "So Elyan doesn't hate me?"

Gwaine slaps Merlin's cheek. "Have you _seen_ you? No one could hate you, bog man." He ruffles Merlin's hair, his breath heavily scented with alcohol. "You... Are... Adorable."

"You know, it's a wonder you all discovered my situation and no one has called _you_ out on your attractions when you go around saying stuff like that," Merlin laughs.

Gwaine grins and runs a hand through his long dark hair. "I don't need to be called out on anything, my friend. Everyone knows I swing both ways. Pretty sure Percival knows that more than most, but..." His eyes glint. "Alas. No time for that story tonight."

Merlin pokes him in the side. "You're not getting off that easy."

"I have blackmailing material over you now, Merlin," Gwaine jokes. "You better watch it."

They both laugh loudly. After that, they move onto other topics, like how Merlin's mother is and whether or not Gwaine misses his old life, where he wasn't tied down to one place. Merlin explains Hunith is happy and healthy but he misses her dearly; Gwaine admits that while his old life was blissful, he wouldn't trade being a knight for the world.

By the end of the night, Merlin and Gwaine are stumbling out of the tavern at closing time, roaring drunk, their arms slung around each other.

Somehow, Merlin forgets to be worried about anything at all.

~~~

Merlin stumbles through the castle, dazed, deciding to take the long way back to Gaius' so he can check in on Arthur in his chambers as he heads back. What he does not expect is to almost smack full force into Arthur himself in the middle of a corridor, probably on his way back from the meeting. Merlin swerves out of the way of him just in time and then bursts into a fit of giggles.

"Hiiiii Arthur," he laughs. He reaches forward to touch Arthur's face, but Arthur steps out of his reach.

"Merlin... What are you doing?" Arthur frowns.

Merlin grins and then stumbles again. The world is spinning. He grabs the wall quickly to keep himself upright before he can grab Arthur (the preferable option, but no matter). "I... Am heading... Back to Gaius'," he announces. "Just as soon as I can remember which way is left and which way is right."

Arthur clasps the bridge of his nose. "Merlin, I want you to look me in the eye and tell me that you're not drunk."

Merlin grabs Arthur by both shoulders and stares right into his eyes. Solemnly, he says, "I... drunk... am not." He screws up his nose. "Wait, let me try again. Drunk... is what I am not."

Arthur sighs. "You're clearly the picture of sobriety. Where have you been?"

"Had a few drinks at the tavern with Gwaine," Merlin says, trying to sound smooth as he attempts to lean against the wall nonchalantly. Unfortunately, because even while drunk his life is some sort of cruel joke, he is unsuccessful and almost falls again. 

"MERLIN."

"ARTHUR."

"Merlin..." Arthur's voice is wavering between astonishment and anger.

He stares at Merlin for a very long time. Merlin's drink-induced imagination convinces him that Arthur is admiring him. 

"Arthur," Merlin whispers, "It's okay, I think you're pretty too."

Arthur had been about to shout but suddenly his entire face slackens. "Wha-what?" he asks incredulously.

Merlin smiles and leans in, as if to tell a secret. "I think you're pretty," he repeats.

It may just be his imagination and the alcohol playing tricks on him, but he swears Arthur almost blushes. All to quickly, though, Arthur is back to himself. "What you do with your time off when I've no need of you is completely up to you, Merlin, but let me remind you I will not be giving you a day to recover tomorrow. You really should have thought this through."

Merlin points a finger into Arthur's chest accusingly. "Wouldn't be this way if it weren't for you," he says, giggling even more.

"What?" Arthur asks, furrowing his brow. 

"You drive me to the drink, with your funny jokes and your pretty hair and your nice face," Merlin says, as if it is the most obvious fact in the world. It is like his voice is not even his own. He suddenly thinks of his alter-ego, Dragoon, and laughs all the more.

Arthur at this point has begun to look mildly concerned. Thankfully, he does not reply to any of Merlin's compliments. He just wraps an arm around Merlin's shoulders and begins to pull him gently down the corridor, with a softly muttered, "Come on."

"What you doing?" Merlin asks as Arthur helps him along.

"Taking you home, dimwit," Arthur snaps.

"Taking me _home_?" Merlin chuckles, but instantly shuts up when Arthur shoots him a look. Even his drunk self knows what that look means.

The feeling of Arthur's arm holding him close is heightened in his state. He feels it through practically every single one of his sense; he can feel Arthur's strength as he keeps Merlin upright; he can see his muscles pulled taut in his arms as he does. He can smell Arthur's scent - metal mingled with flowers. Blue irises. Merlin smiles softly at the thought.

When they finally reach Gaius', the old physician is still awake when Arthur half drags Merlin through the door. "Sire!" he shouts, upon seeing Arthur carrying Merlin.

"Hi, Gaius," Merlin says weakly, still clinging to Arthur.

Gaius moves with all haste towards them, reaching for Merlin. "Thank you, Sire, you've done more than enough. I can take it from here."

"No, Gaius," Arthur says kindly. "You'll be surprised, but he's actually heavier than he looks. I don't want you injuring yourself." He sighs and supports Merlin against him even more. "I'll make sure he gets to bed without tripping himself up. God knows he's clumsy enough even without the alcohol," Arthur mutters.

Gaius nods. "That is indeed true. Thank you, Arthur."

"Thank you, Arthur," Merlin echoes, fading in and out. The floor is definitely moving below his feet.

Arthur just rolls his eyes and guides Merlin towards his room. Merlin methodically kicks the door shut behind them as they go. Inside his room, Arthur finally lets go of Merlin and he collapses onto his back on his bed. Arthur stands at the foot of it, shaking his head. "I really don't know what I'm going to do with you, Merlin," Arthur laughs.

The person that speaks in response surely cannot be him. "You could kiss me."

Arthur's eyes widen. "What?"

"I'd like that, if you did," Merlin says sleepily, his eyes beginning to close. He has never been so tired. He sinks back against his pillows, the room rolling around and around.

Suddenly, Arthur is kneeling down by the side of the bed and propping up his pillows. Merlin opens his mouth to say something and Arthur growls, "Don't," so he shuts his mouth. His eyes turn soft though as he finally pulls away. "Good night, Merlin."

"G'night Arth'r," Merlin mumbles.

Merlin isn't sure how long Arthur stays by his bedside. That's why he's sure it is just a dream when he feels the faint press of lips to his forehead before his door creaks closed and he drifts completely into sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not gonna lie, I had in my plans for the last section of this chapter to be a kinda angsty one between Merlin and Arthur but I instead ditched that plan in favour of a roaring drunk Merlin and a caring Arthur 😂. As I've said, I'm not sure when the next chapter will be due to uni and my workload, but rest assured that even if I'm not posting something, I'm trying my best to work on something, including a new AU that I've come up with (more on that when I have things worked out!). As always, thank you so much for reading and please leave any thoughts in the comments if you enjoyed this 💕


	14. Almost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!!!
> 
> Firstly I want to apologise for being MIA these past couple of weeks. Uni starting up again has made me so unmotivated and exhausted, and, like everyone, I’m hating lockdown life and it’s sucking a lot out of me. I’ve tried my hardest to keep writing though, and I posted a few chapters of a new Merlin/Grease AU, which you can find on my profile if you’re interested! 
> 
> I’ve been working on this chapter since I posted the last one, but for some reason I just couldn’t get it to work. Yesterday, though, I was hit with a sudden burst of inspiration and so now here we are 😂. It’s also my longest, most pining-filled chapter yet as an apology for being gone so long 😂. I’m worried Merlin gets OOC in this in some parts, but hopefully it’s okay? Hope everyone enjoys 💕💕

Arthur really wasn't kidding when he told Merlin that he wouldn't be allowed the day to recover. Merlin wakes to the sound of the King's voice in Gaius' workshop, which works more to get him up than Gaius smacking a wooden spoon against a pan would. He climbs out of bed, his brain hurting as he curses the far too bright sunlight that streams through his windows and looks down to see that he is still in yesterday's clothes. Surely he wasn't that drunk last night? Merlin isn't that irresponsible, but his colossal headache and the fact that he cannot remember a single thing except flashes of the night suggests otherwise. Everything he remembers... It cannot be real. Just snippets of a dream. He is reminded once again why you should always, _always_ say no when Gwaine of all people suggests going for a drink if you want to be able to tell dreams from reality when you rise the next day.

He doesn't bother getting changed into new clothes, especially since Arthur is right outside. He leaves his room and stares at Arthur, who is complaining about something - most likely him - to Gaius. "What are you doing here?"

Arthur looks up at Merlin and, to his surprise, _flushes._ He gives Merlin the once-over and crosses his arms, as if waiting for him to make some kind of enlightening comment. Merlin just glares right back, crossing his arms in a perfect imitation of Arthur, who sighs.

"I came to make sure that you weren't planning on spending the day in bed," he snaps. "We have a lot to do today and I'm still not dressed, let's go." He seems irritated and keeps shooting Merlin looks, like he is expecting him to say something. He looks so beautiful standing there, bedhead and white shirt.  


It is only then that Merlin realises Arthur traipsed _all the way here_ looking like _that._

Merlin can't help it. He snorts with laughter, throwing his head back. Gaius looks up from the potion he is working on and shoots him a weary, warning look, but Merlin continues to laugh. " _God,_ Arthur," he guffaws, "Why would you come all the way here without being dressed just to check that I was out of bed?"

Arthur scowls. "Someone had to do it."

Merlin shakes his head, astounded and chuckling. "You really are a dollophead - a very stupid one."

"Merlin!" Gaius snaps.

Arthur just ignores both of them and jerks his head towards the door. "Come on, now, or I’ll throw you in the stocks," he barks, and with that he steps outside, leaving Merlin and Gaius to exchange incredulous looks.

"What's his problem this morning?" Merlin asks Gaius, shrugging on his jacket.

Gaius' eyebrows draw together but he does not look up from the book he is reading. "I imagine he is just tired."

"Why would _he_ be tired?" Merlin scoffs, feverishly rubbing his temples. "He wasn't the one drinking with Gwaine all night!"

Gaius idly turns a page of his book. "No, but he dealt with the aftermath." He glances up at Merlin and Merlin is surprised to see that he is smirking. Gaius does not smirk. "How do you think you got home last night?"

Merlin wracks his brains, desperately willing himself to remember, trying with all his might to pull the events of last night to the forefront of his mind. What happened yesterday? There was the blue irises. Mordred in Arthur's room, asking for some time off. Arthur giving Merlin one of the irises... Arthur failing in training and Merlin thinking it was an enchantment... Mordred blaming Merlin and their fight...

Then the tavern with Gwaine.

Gwaine, who knows how Merlin feels about Arthur. After that...

Merlin woke with flashes of memory containing a very concerned Arthur half-dragging him home; a strong arm wrapped around Merlin's waist, mooring him to the earth itself. Words... Forbidden words... All the things he said...

"No," Merlin hisses. " _No._ "

Is _that_ why Arthur is acting so strangely this morning? 

"Merlin?" Gaius presses, placing his book face-down on the table, the smirk wiped from his face. "What is it?"

"Gaius," he whispers. "I think I've ruined everything."

~~~

Merlin carries out his morning duties in a state of complete withdrawal. He has never felt so lethargic or shocked. Usually when he is standing by Arthur's side, whether in the King's chambers getting him dressed or with him for a council meeting, every single one of his nerves is on fire and the sound of Arthur's voice alone is enough to make him stand up straight and pay attention. This morning is different; Arthur can hardly look him in the eye and Merlin carries the same feelings - looking at Arthur right now, especially after everything they both know Merlin said last night, hurts him in ways he never knew someone could hurt in. He feels exposed, vulnerable under Arthur's gaze, like his magic has been taken from him, leaving him defenseless and weak. Why hasn't Arthur sent him packing yet? Why hasn't he let Merlin down easy yet?

Apparently, refusing to speak to Arthur and Arthur refusing to speak to him is the quickest way for Merlin to actually get work done around here. He is finished all of his chores by midday and psyches himself up to speak to Arthur - the quicker he can get out of here, the better.

The quicker he can get away from Arthur, the better.

"Sire," Merlin says through gritted teeth.

Arthur jumps, surprised at being spoken to, and looks up from his paperwork. Something that Merlin does not recognise flashes behind his eyes. "Yes?"

"The chores for this morning are complete," Merlin replies irritably. "May I take my leave?"

Arthur stares at him. He wrinkles his nose. "Got somewhere to be, have you?"

Merlin rolls his eyes skywards and plasters a smile onto his face. _Anywhere but here,_ he thinks desperately. "Gaius has asked me to go into the woods to collect some rare herbs today. So if you don't mind..." Merlin turns on his heel and tries not to appear like he is running for the door, eager to escape the palpable, suffocating tension.

"Merlin," Arthur calls, bold and firm, stopping Merlin in his tracks, his hand hovering just above the door handle. "I did not dismiss you."

Merlin balls his fists and counts to ten before spinning back around to face the prat. "What?" His voice is sharp, edged like Excalibur.

"I beg your pardon?" Arthur snaps.

"What else is there that I can do for you, my lord?" Merlin amends, wishing he could just blast Arthur where he sits with some kind of silencing spell, to get away, to loathe himself for ruining the most important relationship in his life...

Arthur rises, setting down his paperwork. A look of defiance and stubbornness has passed across his face. "Clear my schedule - I'm coming with you."

Merlin shoots him a withering look. "I don't think so." 

"You can't tell me what to do, Merlin," Arthur says pointedly. "Now, prepare an extra horse."

Merlin crosses his arms across his chest. He expected that spending an afternoon with him would be the last thing Arthur wanted to do. "Why?"

It is Arthur's turn to roll his eyes. "Because I say so, you bimbo. Do it. I'll see you outside."

"Fine," Merlin snaps, emphasizing the bite of his tone with a sharp slam of the door.

~~~

The ride out to the woods is silent and uncomfortable. The breeze drags its fingers through Merlin's dark hair and grips at his red neckerchief, which squirms wildly in the wind behind him as they ride. It is a pleasant day and the road they take is lined with vividly coloured flowers. If Merlin were alone, he'd stop to appreciate the nature surrounding them - but he is not alone, and Arthur would just call him a girl if he did that now. He ignores the testing looks that Arthur shoots his way from atop his horse, instead keeping his eyes firmly on the path ahead, tearing them away from the flowers. Every so often, Arthur releases a tired, fed up kind of sigh which sets Merlin on edge. Finally, after the fifth sigh, he stops his horse and glares at Arthur.

"You know, you didn't have to come."

Arthur raises an eyebrow and stops his own horse also. King and Warlock sit side by side, stationary on their path, one thousand words unspoken between them. 

"I did have to come. You'd get yourself killed if I wasn't here, Merlin."

Merlin snorts unkindly and takes the reins of his horse again and sets her off on a steady trot, determined to put some space between himself and Arthur in fear he may punch the other man. If only Arthur knew just how wrong he is. If only he knew the amount of times Merlin has saved his sorry royal life. But perhaps he will never know, now, because after everything Merlin said last night...

It won't be long before Arthur sends him packing to a place where Merlin will never be able to lay eyes on him again.

"Merlin," Arthur says firmly, but Merlin ignores him, egging his horse to go faster. " _Merlin."_

"What do you _want,_ Arthur?" Merlin yells. He hops down from his horse and runs his hands through his hair in frustration. They are never going to reach the herbs before nightfall if Arthur continues to be a distraction.

Arthur looks down at Merlin from his horse and huffs through his nose. "We're going to stop here now and we aren't going to move again until you tell me what the problem is."

"There is no problem," Merlin mutters, narrowing his eyes.

"Really?" Arthur asks incredulously, jumping from his own horse now and approaching Merlin. They are toe to toe and Arthur dons a stormy expression. "Because the way I see it, you've been nothing but skittish since the day after the feast held in honour of mine and Mordred's return," he scowls. "What is it, then? Have I said something to hurt your feelings? Are you still hungover from last night with Gwaine?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," he mumbles in return, turning to stroke the nose of his horse, but Arthur grabs his wrist and spins him back around, setting Merlin's heart to beating loudly and wildly at the skin to skin contact. "Let go of me," Merlin whispers dangerously.

Arthur eyes his hand around Merlin's wrist and he frowns, releasing him and taking a step back. "This is what I mean. You act like my very touch, my very gaze, burns you."

What is he to say to that? That he's right? That Arthur's touch sets off a million little fires inside of him, which burn so fiercely that not even Merlin can control them? That the very same touch is like holy water cleansing him from the inside out? He can still remember Arthur's arm wrapped about his waist last night, so real he could burst, and the ghost of his lips on Merlin's forehead before he sunk into sleep, so unreal and too much of a dream that he could cry. And Arthur's gaze... How do you tell your King, your best friend, that the eyes he uses to look at you in disappointment are the eyes that you dream of all through the night, and the very same eyes that keep your feet steady on the ground of this earth, when your destiny threatens to pull you under into a dark place...

"You've been avoiding me all day," Arthur continues. "I just... God, Merlin, I thought we'd solved this. I told you the other day after the meeting that you could talk to me. I don't care whether you think doing so makes you a burden or not, just _talk._ "

Merlin shuts his eyes and rests his head against his horse's, relishing in the beautiful steed's softness. "I wish I could," he whispers, loud enough for Arthur to hear.

Cautiously, as if moving involuntarily, and gently, as if he fears Merlin will break, Arthur rests his palm on Merlin's forearm. "You can."

 _Where to begin? Which secret would you like to hear first?_ Merlin thinks dryly. _Arthur, I have magic. Arthur, I was the sorcerer by your father's bedside when he died. Arthur, I released the dragon that caused so much destruction years ago._

_Arthur, I'm hopelessly in love with you, and I've been told that might kill you. Hell, at this point, it might kill me. I feel so alone, and last night... Just made me even more certain that I love you, but we can never be._

"I can't," Merlin says instead, shrugging Arthur's hand off his arm.

"Merlin - " he starts again, but then cuts himself short. His eyes widen and he draws his sword, head whipping around in all directions. "Merlin, get behind me, now."

"What - "

An explosion of noise fills their surroundings. The ringing of metal as swords are drawn echoes around them. Men charge them from behind trees, carrying swords, maces, axes. Merlin can even feel dark magic in the air.

Arthur wastes no time; he jumps into action, taking on two or three men at a time, not even stopping to think of just where they could have come from and why. But if dark magic is involved, Merlin is almost certain that this is Morgana's doing. 

"Arthur!" he cries, just in time, when one of the men raises an axe above the King's head. Arthur twists away from the attack and Merlin forcefully pushes out his hands when Arthur turns his back and sends the man hurling through the air and against a tree trunk. He does not even wince at the crunching sound as the man hits the bark, falls, and does not rise again. Merlin turns to see if Arthur saw - he is lucky, as Arthur appears to be skirting around one of the other men, jumping on the balls of his feet, taunting the man, sword gripped tightly in his palm.

"Merlin!" Arthur calls over his shoulder. "Take his sword!"

Merlin frowns then his eyes land on the man he just knocked out. He snatches up the man's sword just as someone charges him, releasing a guttural cry as they reach for him, arms outstretched, ready to knock him to the ground. Merlin panics and, all too quickly, he is holding out the sword in front of him, defending himself with about as much grace as can be expected as someone with no combat training. If he was allowed to battle back to back with Arthur with his magic, he'd be able to turn every man to dust with a single flick of his wrist, but instead, all he is permitted is this useless stick of steel and mumbling spells when Arthur has his back turned. He blocks himself clumsily as the man reaches him, swiping a messy cut across the man's leg, breathing heavily with the adrenaline of the fight. The man drops to the ground and Merlin cleans the sword on his jacket.

Up ahead, Arthur is still locked in battle with what appears to be the last foe standing. Sweat glistens across his forehead and his chainmail is stained with specks of scarlet. There is a cut on his cheek. Merlin rushes towards him but Arthur raises a hand out to stop him. "No! Stay where you are!"

"Arthur - "

Without turning, eyes kept on his opponent, Arthur growls, "Stay put, Merlin. I'm finishing this," he snaps, wrinkling his nose in disgust as the man before him spits at his feet and raises his weapon.

"I'm going to enjoy this, y'Maj'sty," he says, accent thick and common. He hefts his sword and clenches his jaw, eyes hard and unforgiving as they rest on Arthur.

"As will I," Arthur bites back, and they come together in a flurry of clanging and ringing of metal throughout the air, now thick with blood and that dark magic that Merlin can't seem to shake away. Morgana may not be here, but he has absolutely no doubt about the fact that she is watching what happens here today from some hidden place, like the coward she is. Has become.

Merlin's eyes follow Arthur's every fluid movement as he fights the last man standing, ready to intervene with magic if he deems it necessary to do so. There is no need, though - Arthur is known as the best swordsman in the land, and for good reason. A sword was placed in his hand the moment he was strong enough to lift one, and since then, his life has been a constant cycle of training and battling, gradually building up his strength and skills and allowing them to turn him into the powerful man he is today. Arthur's training has cultivated him just as Merlin's magic has done him.

Mere minutes later, the man is on the floor, his hand empty as Arthur kicks his sword far out of his reach and leans forward, pressing his own steel to the man's throat. Merlin notes the way his friend's eyes flame with the heady feeling of success in a battle. Every time Arthur succeeds, you can see it in the way he holds himself - he draws himself up straight and his muscles relax, relief seemingly seeping through his entire being that he has once again proved himself worthy to live and lead for one more day.

Merlin moves to Arthur's side and looks down on the man on the ground as Arthur holds him there with his sword, almost lazily. "Who sent you?" he drawls.

The man visibly trembles but he manages to choke out, "Drop dead."

Arthur rolls his eyes, as if someone wishing him dead is just a minor inconvenience in his day. "Who sent you?" he repeats. Merlin is holding out his own stolen sword now and pointing it at the man, a perfect imitation of Arthur. King and Sorcerer stand in unison, swords out, shoulder to shoulder, staring down at one of the many fallen foes they have faced in their time. They defeated the others, and they will defeat this one.

The man eyes their swords warily. "Don't matter, she wanted me to tell you," he spits. "The lady Morgana hates you both. Though I suppose you both already knew that."

 _You have no idea,_ Merlin almost says.

Arthur's gaze hardens. "Where is she? What does she want?"

"Your throne, obviously. Her rightful throne."

Merlin takes a step forward and presses his sword into the other side of the man's throat, applying just enough pressure for it to be uncomfortable and threatening. "You watch your mouth. That's no way to talk to your King."

"Merlin," Arthur says gently, and Merlin shuts his mouth. Arthur turns his attention back to their captive. "Morgana would have sent much better men if she wanted me dead. Or if she wanted me taken to her. What's her plan here?"

The man snorts with laughter. "You think it's you she wants?"

"You just said she wants my - "

"That is the ultimate goal," the man says with an important tone. "To topple the harmful rule against magic that you enforce, just as your father did before you, Arthur Pendragon. But that will come in due course." He nods at Merlin. "It's him she wants."

"Morgana wants _Merlin_?" Arthur asks incredulously, with a quick surprised glance at Merlin. " _Why_?"

Only one name echoes in Merlin's mind.

Mordred. Mordred and his hasty trip to see the "druids" today.

 _She knows,_ he thinks wretchedly. _Morgana_ _knows who I am._

Before Merlin can even respond, before he can even begin to try and explain this to Arthur or silence the man so he doesn't have to, Arthur is kicking the man in the side so he doubles over. In his pain, Arthur uses the hilt of his sword to swiftly knock the man out. He drops like a rag doll, his head lolling forward onto his knees.

Merlin stares. "You didn't kill him."

"He had no weapon," Arthur replies. "That would be dishonorable." He sighs. "We need to take him back to the castle for interrogation and trial. See what else he knows about why Morgana wants you and what her plans are."

"We couldn't have just seen what we could get out of him here first?" Merlin asks. "Why'd you knock him out?"

"I got angry," Arthur growls. "He was threatening me."

"No, not really," Merlin points out. "He was threatening _me,_ if anything."

"Threatening you, threatening me," Arthur says. "Same thing."

Merlin cannot stop the blush that creeps onto his face. "Oh." He remembers suddenly, once again, everything that happened last night and what they were arguing about before the attack, and abruptly turns away, reluctant to let his pesky feelings get the best of him. 

Arthur clears his throat and also turns away, busying himself with hoisting the unconscious man over his shoulder and settling him across Merlin's horse. 

"Hang on, that's my horse!" Merlin shouts. 

"Very observant, Merlin."

Merlin glares. "How exactly am I going to be getting back to the castle if I have this great massive lug thrown over my horse?"

Arthur finishes securing the prisoner on the horse, attaching the horse to his own, and spins back around to face Merlin. "Walking wouldn't hurt," Arthur responds, schooling his features into a look of solemnity.

"Are you actually being serious?" Merlin asks, gaping.

Arthur laughs so hard he bends over, hands on his knees. "Your _face_. Of course not, Merlin. I'm not one of those Kings cruel enough to make his servants walk," he chuckles.

"Wouldn't surprise me," Merlin mumbles.

Arthur arches an eyebrow. "You'll ride with me, of course."

If Merlin had been drinking something, he would have spit it out or he would have choked. Even as it is, it's a struggle not to choke on air. "With - with you?" he splutters. "On your horse?"

"Mmm," Arthur replies, completely blasé about the entire matter in a way that makes Merlin scowl. "Is that a problem?"

 _Yes._ "No," Merlin manages to muster up. He swallows his nerves. "Not at all."

Nodding, Arthur jumps atop his horse and jerks his head for Merlin to take the spot behind him. Merlin tentatively throws his leg over the steed and pulls himself up. He brushes against Arthur's back and his heart jumps to his mouth. He has no idea where to put his arms or his hands. 

"You okay back there, Merlin?" Arthur asks, after a long length of silence.

Merlin, hands still twitching every which way as he tries to figure out where to settle them, just laughs awkwardly and nervously in response to Arthur's question. "I, uh..."

Arthur, recognizing the problem, sighs and twists around to face Merlin. He takes both of Merlin's arms gently and guides them around his waist, locking his fingers together at the front. Merlin doesn't know whether he's just imagining the way Arthur momentarily caresses Merlin's hand with his thumb.

"There," Arthur says, sounding quite hoarse. "Was that so hard?"

Merlin is pressed up right against Arthur's back, his arms tight around him. He almost says right then and there just how hard it is to be this close to Arthur. If Merlin bowed his head right now, he'd be able to rest his face in the exposed expanse of skin on the nape of Arthur's neck and breathe him in, like he's always wanted to do. He's close enough to just bend closer and drop a kiss on Arthur's shoulder. Instead, he stiffens himself up and tries not to curse the universe or Taliesin, miles from here, guarding The Crystal Cave that seems to be the source of all of Merlin's worries and woes.

"No," Merlin whispers. "Not hard."

With that, Arthur kicks the horse in the sides and they are racing forward in a cloud of dust towards Camelot, Merlin's horse carrying the prisoner close behind them.

It is only after half an hour of riding that Merlin remembers they forgot to get Gaius' herbs.  
~~~

Three painful hours later, they arrive back in Camelot. The ride back was silent, although Merlin could tell that Arthur desperately wanted to yell at him for gripping him too tightly around his midriff as they rode. Arthur is a very fast rider and Merlin felt overwhelmed by the speed at which they were travelling, resulting in him clinging to Arthur in the hopes that doing so would stop him from falling off. He wanted desperately to whisper things in Arthur's ear from behind as they traveled, just to pass the time, but bit his lip to stop himself. He already said too many things to Arthur that he promised himself he wouldn't when he was intoxicated last night, and he is not about to start doing so while he is sober.

Gwen, The Knights (minus Mordred) and Gaius are waiting for them at the foot of the stairs of the castle when Arthur and Merlin gallop in, prisoner in tow. Merlin involuntarily blushes when he catches Gwaine's eye and the dark-haired knight raises a cheeky eyebrow at the sight of Merlin holding fast to Arthur. Merlin immediately retracts his arms from around Arthur's waist the moment Arthur halts their steed. His heart is beating two-time, a hammer against his chest, and he slides down to the ground quickly. Arthur follows suit, and together they both haul the still-unconscious prisoner from atop the other horse. Percival, ever the strongest of all the men, rushes forward to help.

"Arthur," Gwen says, "What happened? Who is this man?" she asks, eyes wide with fear. 

"Percival, take him to a cell," Arthur orders, ignoring her, completely in King mode. "Elyan, help him."

Percival and Elyan bow and both lift the unconscious man up and carry him into the castle, headed towards the dungeons. Arthur watches them go and then turns to Gwen, placing an arm around her shoulders and guiding her inside, already beginning to explain what happened. He spares one glance at Merlin, still outside, before he is out of sight. Leon is quick on his King's heels, ever the dutiful knight, but Gwaine holds back.

"So," Gwaine begins, turning to Merlin. "What happened?"

Merlin looks at both Gwaine and Gaius and sighs. "We were attacked. I went to get your herbs," Merlin tells Gaius, "And there were men on the trail. Morgana sent them. We managed to deal with most of them and brought this one back for interrogation."

Gwaine's eyes darken. "Morgana? What does she want?"

"I don't know," Merlin lies, glancing quickly at Gaius. "Let's hope we can find out."

Gaius glances back at Merlin and raises an eyebrow. Merlin only has to nod slightly for the physician's face to fall, understanding dawning. Gwaine narrows his eyes at both of them but neglects to make any further comments.

The three men ascend the stairs into the castle now, silently pondering. Merlin's sore limbs, pained from the fight, horse riding and the tension of being _so close_ to Arthur, scream at him to rest, but not yet. He has to go to the dungeons. Do _something_ to stop that man from telling Arthur his secret. He said Morgana wants Merlin, which can only mean one thing: Mordred is in league with her and has told her who Merlin really is. The prisoner will tell Arthur, and Arthur will hate him forever. 

Everytime a scenario arrives in which Arthur may possibly discover his magic, Merlin always finds himself considering his options or how the reveal will unfold. The only options he has are to stay and be discovered, or run, still be discovered, but prove he is guilty of something, even if running does give him a head-start. The part of him that is in love with Arthur, his King, his best friend, likes to rationalise that Arthur would never sentence him to death. That part of him likes to think that maybe Arthur will banish him instead for his magic if he were to ever discover it, which is beginning to look more and more likely with every passing second. 

Merlin feels physically sick at the thought of banishment. If he was forced out of Camelot, who would save Arthur's skin every other day? Arthur would suffer without him, that much is true. But another small voice niggles at the back of his mind:

_If you're gone, Arthur will never fall in love with you, like you have with him. You can prevent the future you saw in The Crystal Cave. Ensure that it never comes to pass._

He shakes the thought away as soon as it enters his mind. Merlin does not have to _leave_ to stop Arthur from loving him. There are plenty of obstacles to stop that from happening which will still allow Merlin to remain here, lest Arthur actually forces Merlin away himself. For example, there is Gwen - beautiful, kind Gwen, who Arthur would walk through fire for. Then there is also Arthur's status as King - he would never fall in love with a servant. And finally, there is Merlin himself - gangly, stick thin, big-eared, forever repelling lovers all over the land. Arthur would be a fool to want Merlin as much as Merlin wants him. Ultimately, this is what will save him from death: Gwen, his status, and Merlin's very own unappealing qualities. 

His magic can't be revealed. He _can't_ be torn away from Arthur. He has to deal with the prisoner, before it's too late.

Gwaine leaves them alone after a while, taking another corridor leading to his chambers. Gaius and Merlin continue towards Gaius' workshop, but Merlin stops in his tracks when he nears the dungeons. Gaius frowns at him. "Merlin? What is it?"

"You go ahead, Gaius," Merlin says, waving him away. At his mentor's frown, he adds, "I'll be right behind you. I just have to check something first."

Gaius' brow creases but he nods cautiously and leaves Merlin alone in the corridor, mere feet away from the stairs leading down to the cells where Morgana's soldier, their prisoner, rests. 

Is he really going to do this?

Merlin takes a deep breath. Yes. He is really going to do this. He doesn't have another choice.

He moves slowly like a phantom towards the staircase, ready to descend, and suddenly jumps at a hand placed on his forearm. He turns to see Arthur standing behind him, looking sheepish but also curious. "What are you doing?" he asks Merlin.

"Arthur!" Merlin cries, his voice rising two octaves higher than it's usual pitch. He clears his throat. "What are you doing? I thought you went off with Gwen?"

Arthur raises an eyebrow. "It isn't your job to question why I am where I am at any given moment, Merlin."

"Of course," Merlin whispers. "You're right."

They stand in silence for a moment, watching one another. A ray of sun sweeps in through the window behind them, casting itself over Arthur and highlighting every single one of his features in pure, warm light. Merlin's heart, hardened by thoughts of murder only moments ago, softens at the sight of Arthur looking like this, so ethereal in the golden sunlight.

"What is it?" Arthur asks quietly, looking at Merlin funnily.

Merlin shakes his head, shakes the thoughts away, and hardens his heart once again - not with thoughts of murder, but with thoughts of _he will never be yours, and you will never be his._

His heart clenches in his chest. "Was there something you needed, Sire?"

"Yes," Arthur responds. "Come with me."

Confused, Merlin follows Arthur through the castle, until finally they reach the training field. It is empty except for Merlin and Arthur, staring at one another, waiting to see which of them will speak first.

"Arthur, why did you bring me out here?" Merlin asks, folding his arms across his chest.

Arthur has begun to inspect the oak wood stand encasing the swords that the Knights use throughout their training sessions. He chooses two from the stand, hefts one of them in his own hand, then hands the other to Merlin, eyes gleaming with excitement.

Merlin takes the sword from him with next to no enthusiasm and raises an eyebrow. "You really think I'm going to duel you again after the other day?"

"You mean when I beat you?" Arthur grins.

"Yes," Merlin mumbles. "Exactly. My pride is already wounded enough."

"That's exactly why you need to learn how to fight, Merlin," Arthur points out. "It isn't about pride; it's about surviving."

"You always seem to feel pride every time you fight," Merlin snaps playfully.

"That's because I'm a professional," Arthur retorts.

Merlin snorts. "Yeah - a professional prat."

Arthur extends his arm and presses the tip of his sword into Merlin's chest. "Oh really?"

Merlin rolls his eyes and simply bats the tip of the sword away from his chest with two fingers. "You're remarkably casual for someone who's sister had men attack us just a few hours ago."

"Men that she sent to retrieve you for her," Arthur says. "This is why we need to teach you to fight. So you can defend yourself if she comes after you and I'm not there to protect you."

"I'm quite capable of protecting myself, Arthur," Merlin assures him. "Though I appreciate the concern," he adds with a smirk. "It's nice to know you care."

"Do you know how hard it would be to find another servant who could withstand Gwaine's nonsenical chatter during training sessions?" Arthur gibes. "I'm convinced, Merlin, that you're the only one who can put up with it because your own stupid babbling could very much match Gwaine's own. If you die, I will never find someone else who can take it."

Merlin laughs. "Yeah, right, okay." He considers Arthur for a moment, sword still in hand. "Shouldn't you be interrogating the prisoner instead of being here with me?"

Arthur shrugs. "Prisoner is still unconscious," he says simply. "And this is important. You are..." he trails off.

"I'm important?"

Arthur ignores him. "Right, come on, let's not wait for the flowers to grow." He points at Merlin with his sword. "Feet shoulder width apart. Raise your sword," he orders.

Arthur's leader voice, filled with confidence and certainty, never fails to make Merlin's insides twist with want and appreciation. Arthur is _good_ at what he does - the _best,_ even - and he wants to help _Merlin._ True, Merlin could kill any adversary with the bat of his eyelids, but it is the thought that counts. Arthur wants to invest time in ensuring Merlin's safety - it is like when he trains his Knights; he wants them to be the best versions of themselves that they can be. He wants them to be able to protect themselves. Like Arthur said: at the end of the day, it isn't about pride, but surviving. Arthur wants Merlin to survive just as much as Merlin wants Arthur to.

Merlin obeys without another thought, placing his feet shoulder width apart and lifting his sword. Arthur smiles.

Arthur takes a step closer to him and Merlin almost stumbles back, but manages to hold his stance. "Good," Arthur says. "That's your battle stance." He reaches over to hold Merlin's wrist, drawing even closer. "You're gripping your sword too tightly," he comments. He moves to stand behind Merlin now, still clutching his wrist. His chest almost touches Merlin's back. "Relax," he whispers from behind. "Loosen up. You can't win a battle if you're all tensed up."

Merlin swallows. His mouth is dry. He is pretty sure his heart may beat out of his chest. Can Arthur feel his pulse throbbing wildly on his wrist?

Arthur comes back around to face him. "Merlin. Breathe. The first thing an opponent will notice is if you're scared."

_But I am scared. I'm terrified. Of you. And the hold you have over me._

Merlin shuts his eyes and forces his worries to drop away - no thoughts of murdering the prisoner, no thoughts of Arthur banishing him or sentencing him to death, no _Arthur_ to distract him. He permits his mind to relax itself, not even thinking about Arthur's hand still around his wrist.

"That's good," Arthur breathes. "Much better."

Merlin's eyes flutter open. Arthur is so close, right in front of him, smiling proudly. Smiling proudly at _him._

Merlin can feel his sword arm lowering. The air is thick with _something_ as they watch each other, mere steps away from each other, but Merlin doesn't know what that something is. Whatever it is it's heavy and it has made Arthur look like _that,_ a look mixed between desire and wretchedness flitting across his face. He leans in, eyes never leaving Merlin. Almost...

A silent scream scrapes through Merlin's entire being. _No._ He steps out of Arthur's reach and clears his throat. "Uh." He looks at the ground. "Thanks for the lesson."

Arthur’s eyes widen and he backs away abruptly. “I... I...”

Merlin knows he should say something. That’s what a good friend would do. He should tell Arthur that it’s okay, he’s just confused and tired, that he should just forget it and go inside to see Gwen. But he can’t say any of those things. Because it isn’t okay. And even if Arthur forgets it, Merlin never will.

Arthur almost kissed him. He almost kissed him, nearly signing his own death warrant.

”I should go back inside. I... There’s something I need to do,” Arthur says quietly, placing his sword back into the stand and averting his eyes from Merlin.

”Alright,” Merlin says encouragingly. “I’ll see you later?”

Arthur is gone before he can give Merlin a reply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I absolutely loved writing this chapter when inspiration finally hit 😂😂. I was worried Merlin wanting to dispose of the prisoner was OOC and almost deleted it but then I decided to keep it because we all know Merlin has done some questionable things to protect Arthur and his secret that he has magic. Let me know if you think I could improve this though and it’s OOC or if you have any other general comments! If you liked this, all comments and kudos are appreciated. I’m not sure when the next update will be but I promise I’m trying my best to get them out. Thanks for reading everyone! 💕💕

**Author's Note:**

> So there! That was the first chapter. Simple, straightforward, but I promise things will kick off soon. Until then, thank you for reading!


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